


Bedtop Conversations

by Amuly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Cuddling and Snuggling, Dirty Talk, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Food, Hair, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-02
Updated: 2012-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-04 00:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus is thirteen years old, and having a bit of a problem satisfying himself. Sirius tries to offer some advice, but the answer to Remus' problems are something he never considered, and Sirius never mentioned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Practice Makes Perfect

When the curtains around Sirius' bed separated again, Remus didn't even need to look to know the satiated expression that would be on his friend's face. It was on all their faces, suddenly: like every boy in third year had just discovered the secret to the greatest pleasure in the universe. Well apparently, Remus thought bitterly, they had. 

He just hadn't.

“Oi! Psst! Oi!” 

Remus didn't want to roll over. He didn't want to see that blissed-out expression on Sirius' face. 

Remus rolled over. “What?”

Sure enough, Sirius was grinning like a madman, eyes glazed and cheeks pink in the dim light of their dorm room at night. “What's with the open curtains again? Not in the mood? _Again_?”

Turning away from Sirius, Remus shrugged resolutely up at his canopy. “Dunno. Guess not. I don't have to wank at the same time as you, you know.”

“Hey.” Abruptly Sirius' voice was closer, causing Remus to start and look over. Sirius was at his bedside, and now crawling in. Remus scooted his feet up and wrapped his arms around his knees, staring wide-eyed at Sirius as he settled on his bed. It was like he didn't even _care_ that he had just... done... stuff. 

Remus' eyes darted down to Sirius' right hand. Then to his pajama bottoms. Then away.

Sirius laughed. “I used a cleaning spell, you twat. See?” Sirius stuck his hand on Remus' face, waving it around. Remus did his best not to inhale. Sirius' cleaning spells were notoriously shite, and he didn't much feel like getting a nose-full of Sirius'... sperm, or... whatever... that night.

Thankfully Sirius settled back after a moment of hand waving, rocking slightly on the bed. “So? What is it? Don't tell me you don't. And if you don't you should. Maybe loosen you up a bit.”

Remus could feel the flush spreading across his face and down his neck, even slipping beneath his night shirt. He wrapped his arms tighter around his legs and drew them in to his chest. “What do you care? Go... have a wank. Jog on.”

Rather than snort and swear right back at him, like Remus expected, Sirius' eyes softened that same way they did when he first figured out about his lycanthropy. Remus stiffened. 

“Hey, you know, if you're having problems or something-”

“You'll what?!” Hot tears of humiliation burned at Remus' eyes. Merlin, this was so _embarrassing_. And to have _Sirius_ talk to him about it, of all people. “You gonna offer to help me out?” Remus continued. “Because I think that might be taking our friendship a bit too far, don't you?”

_There_ was that casual, Sirius-snort Remus had been looking for. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, though Remus could see real concern still evident on Sirius' face. “Oi! I might be pretty, but I'm no substitute for a bird.” Sirius shifted closer, crawling over the sheets to settle not even a foot away from Remus. “Come on.” His voice was low, and maybe – Remus dared to hope – kind. “If you're having problems I could... dunno. Give you pointers? Maybe you're doing it wrong. You have tried, haven't you?”

Remus huffed, tucking his body tighter into a little ball, shoving his hands between his knees. “Sort of,” he grumbled, looking pointedly off to the side, not meeting Sirius' eyes. “I mean, I...” Remus trailed off. His face was _burning_ with shame. There was no way he could talk to Sirius about this.

“Hey.” Sirius' voice was so soft it caused Remus to jerk his gaze back to watch. Sirius was peering up at Remus with big grey eyes glittering in the dim waxing moonlight. “I won't talk to James or Pete about this. Marauder's honor.”

Remus nodded. “Okay.” He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes as he steeled himself. “I've touched it. When it's... you know.”

“And?” Sirius' voice hadn't lost the quiet, careful quality to it, like he was talking to a skittish baby dragon.

“And... nothing. Dunno. I did the... the motion.” Without opening his eyes, Remus curled his fingers and jerked it up and down. “But it was just... it felt _okay_. But then it got boring. And dry. So I just stopped.”

“What do you think about?”

Slowly Remus opened his eyes, puzzled. “Think about?”

A crooked grin flickered across Sirius' face. “Yeah. Like... you think about something, right? A bird? Rubbing her tits or something? I like picking someone specific, personally. James wanks over Evans, you know. Of course. Pete changes just about every time he realizes another bird grew breasts overnight.”

“Who do you think about?”

Remus couldn't be sure in the low light of the dorm room, but he thought maybe a blush rose on Sirius' cheeks. “Oi! We're trying to help _you_ out, not me. I can wank just fine, thanks much.”

Remus leveled a curious look at Sirius until the other boy looked away, fingers picking at the sheets. But it was a mystery for another night. “Okay,” Remus changed the subject, watching as Sirius let out a sigh of relief. “So fantasies. Seems like a lot of work, but I'll try it. Anything else?”

“Lick your hand first.” 

Remus' expression must have conveyed the disgust he felt, because Sirius was laughing and shaking his head.

“No, really! It helps lubricate it. And if you need more after you get going, spit in your hand. If it gets good, you'll, uh...” Sirius rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “You'll start to leak a bit. You can spread that around and it helps slick it more.”

Huffing just a little, Remus fidgeted with his pajama bottoms, plucking at the fabric. “Why does this have to be so much work? Why can't it be like... going to the bathroom, or scratching an itch? Why's it have to be so _involved_?”

Starting to get up from Remus' bed, Sirius grinned. “Because it's loads, _loads_ more fun than either of those things.” He waved his hand – his dominant hand, Remus noticed with a grimace – as he padded softly across the floor of the dorm to his own bed. “Give it a go sometime, and lemme know if it works.”

Remus drew the curtains around him, settling back down under his duvet. He wasn't going to give it a go _now_ – not when Sirius would surely know what was happening. Soon. Maybe.

**

Remus grimaced as he drew his damp hand over his erection, squeezing and tugging and doing his damndest to just _get off_. He winced as a callous on his hand scraped over the shaft. Damn it, that didn't feel good at all. Shoving self-consciousness into the back recesses of his mind, Remus lifted his hand up and – ew, _gross_ – spit onto it, before wrapping it back around his penis.

That felt a little bit better. Remus tugged harder, yanking at his dick in a desperate race to the finish. It still didn't feel great, though. Kind of good? But not enough. He tried Sirius' advice: thinking about a bird. But as his mind cast about for one he deemed attractive and his hand continued its steady movements over his penis, Remus found none of them really fit. 

Lily was... oh, yeah, great erection-wilting material there. Remus pushed her from his mind and tugged harder on his penis. Lily was like a sister to him: definitely not a bird he wanted to shag. Maybe if he just pictured tits? Big, round, squishy tits. Remus closed his eyes and imagined them, mentally caressing them and squeezing them and... er...

Despondently Remus looked down at his penis. This wasn't working. Tits were... what? They were just these big blobs of extra flesh. Like a squishy tumor. And that wasn't even getting to the _other_ girl bits, the squishy, moist caves of confusion and fear that just left Remus feeling vaguely nauseated. It had been so much easier when all the boys still thought girls were an alien species, and not in the least bit appealing.

Remus released his now-flaccid penis with a growl. This _sucked_. Maybe he'd have to swallow his pride and ask Sirius for some more advice. The wet-palm advice had been good, after all. Just not good enough. 

**

Two nights later, Remus was trying to ignore the insistent erection that had sprung up while he was brushing his teeth for the night. The stupid appendage had a mind of its own, and Remus' inability to relieve said tension was starting to grow from a minor inconvenience to a painful problem. 

“Psst! Remus! Psst!”

Rolling over – and ignoring the erection that was pressing heavy between his thighs – Remus turned to look over at Sirius. “What?”

A magazine sailed through the air in response, pages fluttering like a shot bird struggling to stay aloft. “Here!” Remus flailed and grabbed at the magazine as it landed on his face. He was immediately assaulted with a glossy image of plum-colored nipples and tanned flesh. Remus shoved the magazine off his face and into his lap.

“Sirius!”

The other boy was grinning at Remus from his spot on his own bed. He had his head propped up on one hand, elbow digging into the mattress as he leaned on it. “Go on. I can tell you haven't had a good wank yet: you'd be way less tense.”

Remus pressed his lips together and said nothing, fingers gripping at the magazine in his lap. 

“Here: it'll help if you've got no imagination. Or don't wanna think about the birds 'round here.”

That latter suggestion lit up something in Remus' head. Lifting the magazine gingerly from his lap, he peered at the voluptuous breasts printed brazenly on the page. They weren't exactly stirring any additional interest in his groin, but then again, it was so hard right now that Remus wasn't sure it could _be_ any more interested than it already was. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Thanks. I'll... er... give it a go.”

“That's the spirit.” With a wink and a flick of his wrist, Sirius was ensconced behind his own bed curtains for the night.

Remus peered at the pages, flipping through the magazine and ignoring the way some of them stuck together a little. There were plenty of women inside, all in various states of undress. There were blondes, brunettes, redheads, blacks, whites, asians... plenty of variety. But none really caught Remus' eye. There were all just so... intimidating. And squishy. They all seemed so sure of themselves and their soft bodies. As if they knew that Remus would be sitting here, alone in his big bed and trying to find fulfillment by staring at their exposed chests and spread thighs.

Remus slid the magazine across the room and back over to Sirius' bed. If anything, the pictures had only served to decrease his erection.

With his luck, Remus was probably just a freak in this part of his life, too.

**

The door slammed as Peter raced out after James and Sirius, eager to go watch James' Quidditch practice. Sirius wasn't going to watch James, but rather had detention with Professor McGonagall after he took the blame for Severus' exploding teacup in Transfiguration class. Granted, it had _mostly_ been his fault in the first place, so he deserved the blame.

Glancing back down at his parchment, Remus sighed. The essay for Professor Binns' class wasn't going to write itself, but surely he deserved a moment himself to relax this Saturday morning? A glossy magazine on James' bed caught his eye. It wasn't the type of magazine Sirius had given him that disappointing night a few weeks ago; it was just an innocuous Quidditch magazine. That could serve as a relaxing distraction from his schoolwork – as bookish as he was, Remus still liked to keep up with Quidditch.

As he lay down on the bed and started to flip through the magazine, Remus felt his penis stir. He sighed, reaching down to adjust himself and then putting it out of his mind. Flipping another page, Remus' gaze drifted over a picture of the Cannons' new Beater. The picture was of him floating on his broom, uniform shirt off and tossed over one shoulder, club balanced on the other. He was staring out of the pages of the magazine with a sort of haughty arrogance Remus had only ever seen Sirius match.

To Remus' dismay, his penis stirred again, rapidly growing turgid and pressing tight against his trousers. He sighed, trying to adjust it again. The movement only served to send a jolt of pleasure through his system, causing Remus to pause, hand on his groin. Tentatively he squeezed at his bulge again, gasping at the surge of arousal.

Figuring now was as good a time as any, Remus quickly tossed the magazine aside and grabbed his wand, flicking his curtains shut and setting up silencing spells. Even though the other boys were out for the afternoon, there was no telling when one of them might decide to come barging back in, interrupting Remus in his quest to finally, _finally_ get off.

Licking his palm and just coating it with as much saliva as he could, Remus undid his trousers with his other hand, breathing a sigh of relief as his erection sprang free. When he reached down and grasped himself in his slick hand, Remus felt a surge of pleasure go through his system, more than he had managed to date, outside a handful of wet dreams. 

_Okay. So. Birds. Birds' tits. Big, floppy, tits, with nipples._ Remus whimpered in dismay as he felt his erection wilt, tugging on it harder as if that might help. It didn't.

Damn it! Sirius must have left something out. The rest of the third year boys must have figured out something obvious, and Sirius was just leaving Remus out of the loop, probably smirking in that smug, insufferable way of his, just like that new Beater...

Remus gasped and thrust up into his own hand, surprising himself. With wide eyes he glanced down at his hand moving over his erection, watching as his hips pumped into his hand with tiny movements. That had never happened before. It had never felt this _good_ before. Remus left his head fall back against the pillow as he thought back to what he might be doing differently.

He had just been thinking about how much of a prat Sirius could be sometimes, and how that new Quidditch beater looked like... oh, _there_. Yes, _that_ felt good. Remus' fist was slapping against his flesh as he moved his hand faster, marveling at how good the slow build of pleasure felt. Okay, so this is what the other boys had been talking about. This was good.

Nervous eyes drifted over to James' Quidditch magazine. He... he couldn't use _that_ to...

Forcing himself not to think too hard about it, Remus snatched up the magazine with his free hand and looked at the picture of the new Beater.

Remus bit his lip, eyes fluttering closed before he wrenched them back open. His hips were pressing madly up into his hand now, tension rising in his body. In the magazine, there was sweat glistening on the Beater's chest, and his dark hair was slicked back with it. He had a five o'clock shadow, probably on purpose judging by the smug look on his face. He knew how handsome he was... and all Remus could think about was how much he wouldn't mind that handsome man on top of him, that muscular chest heaving above him as he reached between them and stroked a calloused hand up Remus' shaft.

Remus' stomach twitched and rolled as the pressure behind his groin grew even more. His chest rose and fell rapidly, though its speed was no match for the speed of his hand on his erection. It was flying over it now as he chased that feeling, that tight feeling that he had never really experienced, that sensation like he might have to go to the loo, except entirely different and so much better. Remus gasped and closed his eyes, picturing the Beater on top of him, stubble scraping at his jaw as his hand jerked Remus faster, _harder_.

Remus came with a cry, body releasing all its tension with a single snap. He gasped, chest heaving as he kept stroking, kept trying to hold on to that sensation of pleasure filling up his entire system. His stomach twitched and thighs trembled as he continued to move his hand between his legs, come slicking his hand's movements over his shaft and making the feel of it just that much better. But then after just a few seconds the stimulation became too much, and Remus was forced to let his hand drop away with a sigh. 

He lay there, basking in the afterglow of orgasm – his first _real_ orgasm, because ones that he couldn't really remember in his sleep didn't count – for long minutes. It was probably ten minutes later that higher brain functions resumed, and Remus thought to look at James' Quidditch magazine on his chest and wonder at what had just happened.

Shit. _Shit shit shit shit shit_. He had just wanked over a Quidditch magazine. And not of a picture of a bird on a broom. Hell, the new Beater wasn't even the tiniest bit feminine looking: short hair, stubble, not soft and pretty at all. He was definitely (ruggedly, handsomely, oh-so-sexily) one hundred percent _male_. And Remus had just managed to finally have a successful wank thanks to him.

Shame and confusion burning at his cheeks, Remus wiped his hand on his sheets and grabbed the magazine off his chest. He tossed it on James' bed before crawling back behind his curtains, wrapping his arms around his legs as he thought.

Okay. So... what did this mean? Did it mean he was bent? Remus knew boys like that existed. He had heard the older boys yelling “poofter” at each other as insults before, and his mum had a brother that his aunts would talk about under their breath, wondering about him and his “flatmate” friend that he had lived with for twenty years. So there _were_ other men out there who did that sort of thing. But did this mean Remus was one of them?

“Oi! Remus!”

Remus' eyes went wide as Sirius' voice filled the room. He glanced around his bed, throwing a pillow over the wet spot where he had wiped his hand and doing up his trousers in quick succession. Then he checked his hand over one last time, making sure there were no remnants to tip Sirius off as to what he had been doing. 

“Hey!” Remus realized his greeting had probably been a bit too enthusiastic when Sirius stopped in his tracks and looked him up and down. When a slow, knowing grin spread over Sirius' face, Remus just wanted to crawl back behind his curtains and hide. Forever.

“Heeey.” Sirius drew the word out slowly as he stalked over to Remus. “Well. Someone been making good use of his afternoon alone?” 

Remus rolled his eyes, doing his best to act like his face wasn't on _fire_ at the moment. “Yeah. I guess.”

To his surprise – even though really, he shouldn't have been surprised – Sirius jumped onto Remus' bed without hesitation, punching him in the arm. “Congratulations! Well? Did it live up to the hype? Did Sirius' expert wanking advice help?”

Doing his best to ignore Sirius' warm arm pressing into his shoulder, Remus just huffed and rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Hey! It worked, though!”

“Yeah, well, you are a _wanker_ ,” Remus shot back.

Sirius laughed good-naturedly at Remus' teasing. “I'm just going to take that as a compliment to my expertise.” Remus snuck a glance at Sirius, and found himself grinning back at the other boy. “So?” Sirius' shoulder nudged Remus. “What ended up working? Licking your hand? Titty magazine? I didn't think you liked that.”

“Yeah, uh...” Remus hesitated. He wasn't about to tell Sirius about the Cannon's sexy new Beater. No way. He settled on a half-truth. “The fantasy. It just took a bit to find someone... right.”

Glancing over at Sirius again, Remus felt a jolt of nerves go through him. For some reason, Remus felt like Sirius _knew_. Just the way he was looking at him: curious, nervous, maybe even a little terrified, behind the crooked smile and casual cockiness that always seemed to be a part of Sirius' expression. His eyes were just a little too wide for the rest of his expression, making it seem like he had just realized something deeply secret. Remus looked away quickly.

Remus almost jumped a foot off the bed when Sirius slapped him on the leg. “Well, good on you, mate. Just remember to keep at it,” Sirius winked as he hopped off the bed, “because it'll get _loads_ better.”

As Sirius strolled over to his own bed and threw himself to the ground to rummage underneath it, Remus cocked his head and stared. Sirius' arse was pointed straight up as he wiggled and writhed, arm out in front of him and look of intense concentration on his face as he searched. Improbably, Remus felt his erection stir again.

Remus stifled a groan. This wanking revelation was going to cause more trouble then it solved, in the end.  
  
  
  



	2. Perfect Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Sirius helps Remus successfully wank, he ponders the possible problems Remus had been having with the recreational activity.  
> Warnings: underage wanking, fantasies

Sirius breathed deep as he thrust up into his hand, head tossing to the side and cheek pressing into his pillow as he pumped. A whine escaped his throat, precome dribbling down over his fist and quickly smearing along his shaft, adding to the smoothness of his strokes and increasing his pleasure. His feet slid against the mattress, thighs trembling as he slowed his strokes, trying to draw out his orgasm just a little longer. The fantasy was too good to give up just yet.

_Tawny hair and amber eyes moving above him. A mouth parted, breathing, panting as he moved. Long, nimble fingers – inked-stained, maybe – reaching between them, wrapping around Sirius and stroking him, stroking him... Knobby knees and sharp hipbones digging into Sirius', and a pained little exclamation of excitement falling from the boy's lips as he came, wet come pouring out over Sirius' stomach. Remus staring down at him, wonder and breathless contentment soothing his expression normally so pinched in worry_ -

Sirius came with whimper, left hand pressing back helplessly against his pillow as his right pulled him through orgasm, tugging and tugging at his twitching cock even after he had rung the last drops from it. He continued to stroke his hand over his penis even as it wilted, thighs trembling and hips juddering as fingernails and fingerpads traversed oversensitive flesh. 

Finally Sirius straightened his legs and pushed himself into a sitting position. His tongue darted out and swept sweat from his upper lip as he moved, sending another little shiver of arousal through his system. If only it was Remus' tongue, Remus' hands on him instead of his own.

With a sigh Sirius felt around for his wand with his left hand, fingers crawling under sheets until they bumped into the thin piece of wood and wrapped around it. Even with his hand trembling he somehow managed to cast a decent enough cleaning spell on his hand, though he wiped away the mess on his penis and stomach with the sheets. Even the lightest of cleaning spells tended to feel much too harsh on sensitive flesh. He had learned that the hard way.

Satisfactorily cleaned up, Sirius sat for a long moment on his bed, neck bent and staring unseeing into his lap. He always felt guilty, afterwards. Not so much because of the wanking or anything – everyone did it ( _even Remus, now..._ ), so Sirius didn't feel ashamed about it. But he knew not everyone pictured one of their best mates on top of them, jerking him off every single night.

Sirius tried, he  _really_ did, not to think of Remus. But he couldn't think of birds – that much Sirius had figured out early into the whole wanking experience. So he thought of boys. But no matter how many Quidditch magazines he stared at, or how different the blokes he would start the evening fantasizing about, they all ended up being Remus in the end. Remus, with his kind eyes and shy smile; Remus with all his devious wit and insecurities. Remus, who had flat-out told Sirius that the naked birds in James' magazine did nothing for him, and who maybe was more within the realm of possibility than Sirius had ever thought...

_No_ . Sirius pushed the thought out of his head. No, he couldn't. He couldn't think about Remus like that – at least, not outside the four, tightly-drawn curtains of his bed. James had already told Sirius in no uncertain terms that Remus was off-limits. He was too good of a friend, too nice of a human being, for Sirius to go ruining everything with his freaky crushes and perverted mind.

Scooting to the edge of his bed, Sirius wriggled a finger between his curtains and pushed them open just a couple centimeters.  _Oh_ . Remus' curtains were shut. Sirius felt his cock twitch and his stomach roll with interest. Remus' curtains had been closed more and more often at night, ever since Sirius had given him a few friendly words of advice.  _You were just hoping he'd ask you to actually show him, weren't you? Flaming, disgusting poofter that you are_ . 

Sirius ignored the voice that sounded like a disturbing mix of his mother and his cousin Lucius and continued to look out at Remus' drawn curtains. Almost subconsciously his hand drifted down between his legs, rubbing the slowly-growing erection there. Sirius' tongue darted out across his lips, wetting them. His fingers wrapped around his length, squeezing and releasing in a slow, pulsing rhythm as he worked his way up to full arousal. Remus was just beyond those curtains, touching himself this same way, probably thinking about blokes, just like Sirius did-

Remus' curtains fluttered open and Sirius tore has hand away from between his thighs, face flushing hot with shame. It was one thing to wank behind closed curtains; it was an entirely different thing to stare at his friend while he got himself off. 

When Sirius got a good look at Remus, though, it took every once of his nonexistent thirteen-year-old will power not to reach back down between his thighs and jerk himself to a messy conclusion. Remus' face was flushed pink, his lips swollen –  _like he had been biting them_ , Sirius' mind breathlessly supplied. The flush traveled down his neck and his chest, disappearing beneath the collar of his nightshirt. Sirius felt an almost impossible to resist compulsion to see if that flush continued past the collar, painting Remus' chest red with arousal. Whether it did or not, Sirius knew he'd be adding that detail into his fantasies tomorrow night – or later tonight, judging by the state of his erection heavy between his legs.

“Oi, Remus. Good night?”

Remus head whipped around in Sirius' direction, his eyes going wide and then dropping as he saw Sirius peering out from between his curtains. His hand came up and ruffled at the back of his hair, which just served to muss it up even more and send Sirius' mind spinning all sorts of inappropriate directions, all of which somehow lead to his penis, and how much he'd really love to wank to the sight of a sex-mussed Remus, embarrassed and caught out.

Instead, Sirius just plastered a crooked grin on his face and asked “Suppose you don't need any more tips, do you?”

Remus' mouth opened and closed, eyes darting around the floor as he avoided Sirius' gaze. Sirius just wanted to kiss that speechlessness right off Remus' face. Then lay him back against the pillows and tug his nightshirt up to see how far that flush went, then rip off his bottoms just to see, just to have a _glimpse_ of...

“Look like I'm doing just fine, aren't I?”

Sirius felt a warm thrill go through him at Remus' defiance. As much as he loved getting Remus flustered and seeing him all shy and bookish, he also loved it when Remus went toe-to-toe with him, meeting him implication for implication. “Guess you are,” Sirius finally managed to fire back. “Just lemme know if you ever want some more expert techniques.” Hesitating just a second, Sirius figured he'd put his Gryffindor courage to some good use. “And if you want a different sort of magazine besides the ones with birds in them, I might be able to help you out there, too.”

Something flashed across Remus' face – just for a  _second_ , before that blank mask Remus had perfected over years of hiding his lycanthropy slid into place. “I already said I was doing fine, Sirius.” With that, Remus' curtains snapped back shut.

Sirius frowned, staring at Remus' closed curtains for a long moment. Remus answer  _definitely_ weren't a shining beacon of heterosexuality – not in Sirius' book. And where there was a chance Remus might be bent – even a little bit – there was hope for Sirius, in his mind. James and all his cautions against pursuing Remus could jog on.

Decisively Sirius closed his own curtains and pressed a hand between his legs. The instant he closed his eyes, he saw Remus' flushed, eager face peering down at him, ink-stained fingers trailing down Sirius' chest and coming to rest between his thighs.  
  
  


 


	3. Advice Given Briefly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and James have a talk about Remus' possible predilections.

“But I really like him, James.”

Sirius knew he sounded pitiful, maybe even downright _whiney_ as he pleaded with James. But James just didn't _understand_. He didn't get how much Sirius' heart ached every time he looked at Remus, how hard it was to control himself and not snog Remus senseless every time they were in the same room together.

James shifted on Sirius' bed, fiddling nervously with a loose thread on his duvet. To their right, Peter's snores were a loud chorus breaking through the stillness of the night. 

Sirius glanced out the window. He couldn't see the full moon hanging out there, but the night sky was so bright he knew it was out. And somewhere out there, alone and scared and hurting himself, was Remus.  _His_ Remus. All alone, and without Sirius there to protect him from the monster inside of him. Sirius shifted uncomfortably and pulled his arms tighter around himself, drawing his body into a little ball. He hated feeling helpless in the face of Remus' pain.

“You can't 'really like' him though, Sirius. He's our mate!”

“So,” Sirius grumbled. “Mates get together all the time. Like Cor and Aravis in those wardrobe-y books Remus made me read.”

“That was a bird and a bloke though, Sirius! They were meant to get together. Mates – two guy mates – aren't.”

Sirius thought harder. “What about those two from that other book? Phineas and... Gene, right?”

James frowned. “You're just making that up. They were just mates.”

“Yeah, and my Uncle Alphard’s mate Jason is 'just his flatmate'.”

“What happens when you break up, then?” James tried, changing tack. Sirius frowned and curled harder into himself. He didn't want to think about stuff like that. Why couldn't he just like Remus, and have Remus like him back, and then they snog loads, and it's all normal? Why'd he have to be worried about stuff like breakups and 'group dynamics', or whatever it was James was always prattling on about.

“Well I don't _plan_ on breaking up with him,” Sirius grumbled. Before James could reply, Sirius cut in: “I mean, do you ever plan on not being my mate?”

“'Course not,” James immediately replied. When he realized the point Sirius was making, he grumbled and reached a hand up to his hair, ruffling it exasperatedly. “I mean... but that's different! Being a mate is loads different from being a boyfriend.”

“But how?” Sticking his hands out in front of him, Sirius interlocked his fingers and rolled them back and forth. “I mean, it's just being mates plus snogging, innit? If I'm not going to screw up being Remus' mate, then the only bad thing would be the snogging. But there's no _way_ I'm going to bollocks up snogging.”

James' entire face wrinkled up in a semblance of disgust, though not anger or hatred. He just looked like how he looked when Sirius threw his dirty pants at James' head. “I don't think you're really bent, you know.” James held his hands out imploringly. “I mean... how can you be? That's just...  _yeck!_ ” James' body shuddered with the thought. “I think you're just doing it to, dunno, drive your parents mad.”

“Too late for that,” Sirius grumbled, earning a crooked grin from James. “But I'm not! I'm _really_ not! If I wanted to do that, I could just find some muggleborn Gryffindor girl to date – like Evans. Not that I would!” Sirius held his hands up when James looked like he was about to tackle him to the floor. “I wouldn't! But I could just do that, and it'd drive them just as mad. And that way, I wouldn't have to snog a bloke. But I really do want to snog blokes, James! Especially Remus...” 

Sirius trailed off, thinking about the way Remus would nibble on his lower lip when he was working on a particularly tricky transfiguration assignment, or how his nose scrunched up his freckles when he laughed so hard at something he couldn't control himself. It was definitely  _Remus_ Sirius thought about, alone at night in his bed. Remus, with his flat, pale chest, riddled with scars, and his lovely slender hips, and his bits, which Sirius could only guess how they looked. But he thought he saw a tawny trail of hair leading down there, once or twice in the showers. Sirius bet there was more hair beneath Remus' pants, just waiting to be discovered.

A retching noise from the other side of the bed drew Sirius' mind away from the gorgeousness that was his vision of a naked Remus and back to James, the source of the noise. “Maybe you just haven't found the right bird yet?” James offered. “I mean, maybe you're just so desperate for a snog, your brain's gone all haywire.”

Sirius shook his head decisively. “No. It's Remus. I  _know_ it's him. I only want  _him_ .” When James made a protesting noise, Sirius flapped his hands and continued. “You've never snogged Evans, have you? But you know it's her! So why's it I'm confused if I've never snogged anyone but want to snog Remus, but you're not confused when you've never snogged someone but you want to snog Evans? What's the difference?”

James' mouth opened and closed several times before he snapped it shut, looking well put out. “I think if Professor McGonagall were here, she'd ask why you don't put that brain of yours to better use.”

Sirius scoffed. “I put it to use just fine. Got the highest grades in her class as it is.”

They fell silent for a moment, the only sounds filling the room being Peter's rather cacophonous snores. Finally James' tentative voice broke the silence. “Haven't you tried... not liking him? Not liking blokes?”

Sirius snorted. “Tried it at first. Tried thinking about the same thing every else did.” Sirius made a gesture with his hand to indicate wanking, and James nodded his understanding. “Didn't work. If I got off at all, it's because the girls stopped being so girly halfway through, and started looking more like...” he hesitated, breaking off. With an apologetic wince in James' direction, Sirius finished: “like Remus.”

“But couldn't you just... not ever put the moves on him? Just...”

“What? Wank myself raw? Because I'm already getting there,” Sirius grumbled. When James made a strangled noise Sirius sighed, running a hand through his silky hair. It was growing out a bit, and he liked feeling the lengthening strands between his fingers. It was calming, a bit, to feel that little bit of something that was within his control. “Besides, I don't want to just want. I want to be able to kiss him. Hold him after the moon without it being weird. I just...” Sirius' eyebrows drew together, feelings bubbling up in his chest. He wanted to do so much to Remus, it was beyond his capacity to express it. He didn't even know half the time what he wanted to do, just that he wanted Remus in his arms.

“Okay, okay. Don't start singing Beatles' songs at me.” James sighed and ruffled the back of his hair again. “You really are a poof, aren't you? Right sappy.”

“Oi!” Sirius grinned crookedly at James, who smiled back. A weight felt like it lifted from Sirius' chest, letting him breathe just that bit easier. If James could joke about it with him, everything would be alright – even if Remus didn't like him back.

But as it was... Sirius squirmed on the bed, hope clawing like a desperate thing at his stomach. “You know,” he lowered his voice even more, so much so that James had to lean close, “I think Remus might be one, too. Bent, I mean.”

James started in his place, eyeing Sirius like he was crazy. “Moony? No way.”

“Would you think I was bent if I hadn't told you?” Sirius pointed out. Judging by James' mollified expression, he had made his point. “Besides, I got almost proof. He couldn't wank when he was thinking about birds or looking at them. It took him forever to get it right.”

“But then how do you know he's not thinking of birds now? Maybe he just took a while to figure out the right bird to wank over?”

“I don't think so.” Sirius shook his head slowly, fingers picking at each other nervously. “First time I saw him after, he looked like he was freaking out. I think he figured out he fancied blokes, and that's how he managed a good wank, finally.”

James looked a little green at the direction their conversation had taken, but he resolutely plowed ahead. “Let's just say he likes blokes. I'm not saying he does, but let's just say.” He looked up at Sirius with kind, big eyes. “Doesn't mean he fancies _you_.”

Sirius winced. James was right. He didn't like to think about it, but there was no reason to think Remus liked him more'n just a mate. And the thought that Remus might be gay, but  _still_ not interested in Sirius, made him just a little sick. Not that he'd hate Remus if he decided to go with another guy – Sirius could never hate Remus. But that didn't mean he'd be cheering at Remus and another bloke's wedding any time soon.

“And,” James was continuing, “even if Remus _does_ fancy you and you two blokes _do_ get together, it doesn't mean you'll stay together. No offense, mate, but you have a tendency to bollocks things up.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, James. Means a lot.” Sirius picked viciously at one of his cuticles, wincing when a small spot of blood welled up. 

“I don't mean it like that, mate. But you do have a tendency to drive Remus bonkers. And if one day you push him too hard, _and_ you two blokes are shagging, then... I dunno. It'd ruin the Marauders.”

Sirius wanted to crawl in a ball and die. He wanted to just curl up on his bed, ignore James, and waste away until he died, because life without Remus wasn't worth it. He needed his crinkly nose in his life, and his tawny hair, and his amber eyes. He needed to hear Remus scolding him and James for yet another stupid prank, or groaning with happiness as he ate his first piece of chocolate after the full. He need to see that embarrassed flush overcome Remus' features, or that excited gleam in his eyes when he found something fascinating in a book.

“But I like him, James. So much it hurts sometimes, like I'll just break apart inside if I can't touch him.”

James looked at Sirius with pity, before awkwardly reaching out and patting his arm. “That's rough.”

Sirius sniffed and looked away. He wasn't crying. He just... Remus was out there, hurting, almost  _dying_ tonight. Sirius' emotions felt like they were going to rise up and burst through his ribcage until his entire body was inside out. “Yeah,” he choked out.

“Listen, why don't you...” James' voice was nervous, worried, but his hand stayed sure and reassuring on Sirius' arm. “Why don't you leave it, just for a bit? I'll look into it: watch Remus, see if he doesn't exhibit some... dunno, poofter qualities. Maybe you're right. Maybe Remus is as mad about you as you are him.”

Sirius nodded. Maybe. Maybe if he let James watch Remus, he'd come to the same conclusion Sirius had. And then, just  _maybe_ , he'd be able to ask Remus out on a date, or something. Maybe to the next Hogsmeade visit.

And wouldn't that be just perfect? A smile slipped across Sirius' face. They'd go to Honeydukes first, so Sirius could spend loads of money on sweets for Remus, and Remus would protest the whole time. But he'd let Sirius buy him the chocolates anyways, because Remus could never resist chocolates. Then they'd go to The Three Broomsticks, and Sirius would pay for that, too. They'd sip butterbeer and have a nice warm meal – maybe even play footsie under the table. Sirius' heart leapt at the thought. And then, after the day was over and they were heading back up to Hogwarts, maybe they'd hold hands for a little bit. And maybe, just maybe, if Sirius was extra-charming and handsome and nice all day long, Remus would let him sneak a quick snog just before they returned to the dorms for the night.

“Hey. Hey. _Oi! Romeo!_ ” 

Sirius blinked and refocused on James, who was looking vaguely disturbed. “What?”

“Just...” James patted Sirius awkwardly on the arm before removing his hand. “Don't get ahead of yourself, okay? I said I'd keep an eye on Remus. We don't even know if he's bent like you, yet. So just... keep a hold on the fantasies, okay?” 

Sirius nodded, but wasn't really listening to James. If he could figure out if Remus was a shirt-lifter like him before the next Hogsmeade trip, then he could ask him out. That gave him... one month, or thereabouts. And Hogsmeade should fall a week and a half after the full, so Remus would be feeling fine for walking around and enjoying the day with Sirius. 

With just a mumbled “night”, James was crawling off Sirius' bed and leaving him alone with his thoughts. Sirius lay back against his pillows and stared up at the canopy about him. 

This was going to be  _brilliant_ .


	4. Third Time's the Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Sirius have some conversations with Remus that set his teeth on edge; in his desperation, Remus turns to Peter for advice.

 

Remus' nose was buried in his DADA book that Saturday afternoon, the rest of his body sprawled out on his stomach on his bed. Honestly, he was finding it harder and harder to pay the book much mind. He really needed to catch up on whatever he had missed during the full, but his mind kept drifting to Sirius. Sirius, who had looked somehow looked disdainfully down on Lucius – who had a good six inches on him – when the older boy had dared insult Remus' second-hand robes within Sirius' hearing earlier that day. Sirius, who seemed to be creeping more and more into Remus' nighttime fantasies, with his arrogant looks and his kind grin and his easy laughter.

When James crawled onto Remus' bed without asking, Remus didn't really pay him much mind. Between James and Sirius, the idea of personal space was almost nonexistent in their dorms, and Remus had learned first year to not make a fuss about it – at least, not unless he wanted to be subjected to merciless teasing on his shyness courtesy the two black-haired boys. He just kept his eyes on the page, chin propped up with one hand. James sat somewhere around Remus' torso, legs splayed in a tangle of knees and ankles across Remus' bed.

“Wotcher, Remus.”

Barely lifting his eyes from his DADA book, Remus shrugged one shoulder. “Ai,” he muttered in response. He might have been a bit bored with his DADA studying, but he wasn't bored enough to give in to whatever James had planned. And if James was coming to him and not Sirius, it was something big and impossibly complex – not something Remus was exactly in the mood for just a handful of days after the full.

“So, uh... you coming to the match tonight?”

Blinking, Remus finally dragged his eyes off his book to look curiously at James. The boy was flushed red, and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Remus frowned. That was... odd. “'Course...” Remus replied slowly. When James continued to look like he had a flobberworm down his trousers, Remus tried to prompt more conversation. “You think you're up to beating Ravenclaw tonight?”

“'Course.” James scoffed, and for a second his normal, confident expression was back. But then as soon as it had come, it was gone, and his awkwardness returned. “So... uh... you know Phaedo? Phaedo Quinn?”

Remus nodded. “One of our beaters? Yeah, I know he's on the team.” When James seemed unforthcoming, Remus tried again. “He's a seventh year though, right? I've never spoken to him.”

“He's...” A pained expression crossed James' face, like he was about to fire a hex at his own head. “He's a bit of alright, isn't he? Fit, and all?”

Remus' heart seized up. Did... did James _know_? Even worse: did Sirius _know_? Did Sirius know and then tell James? Or maybe James figured it out when Sirius shared Remus' “problem” with him, and then James put two and two together. But that didn't make sense: as much as Remus loved his friends, James could be right thick at times. He was too daft to figure out Remus' predilections just because of a couple failed attempts at wanking. But Sirius... that was another story. Sirius was the one who had figured out that Remus was a werewolf, after all. When Sirius got focused on a problem, he sorted it long before anyone else. 

Remus cleared his throat, casting his eyes back down to his book. “Is this conversation going somewhere, James, or can I get back to my studies?” A wild, brilliant thought crossed Remus' mind. It was worth a try. “Does Lily have a crush on him or something?”

James choked, eyes going wide beneath his slightly-askew glasses. “What? No! Why? Did she say something?!”

With that, James was dashing out of the room and down the stairs, shouting “Quinn!” at the top of his lungs. After watching after him for just a moment, Remus slammed his book shut and tossed it off his bed, not caring if he damaged the binding. Drawing his legs up to his chest, Remus curled up into himself, staring at the dorm room door. James _couldn't_ know Remus' secret. He just _couldn't_. There had to be another reason for James' mad line of questioning. Maybe Sirius had put him up to it as some sort of misguided prank. Maybe James himself was feeling confused (though Remus doubted that: he was so mad about Evans it was like nobody else even existed as a possibility for James). 

Whatever the explanation, Remus could only hope James' prattling and awkwardness wasn't caused by Remus' recent discovery about himself. Remus had already been worried about having to hide his orientation from his mates, thinking years down the line: changing pronouns when he had a crush, always having to go on dates in secret (if he could even find someone like _him_ to date in the first place), always having to make some sort of excuse as to why no one had met anyone he dated. Now it seemed the problem could be much more immediate, and if James' reaction was anything to judge by, Remus could expect to face disgust, or fear, or ostracism from his friends.

And Remus couldn't even bring himself to _imagine_ how Sirius would react.

** 

Sunday night, Remus was just trying to climb under his covers and enjoy a quiet book as he drifted off to sleep. Before he could even reach over to his bedside table and retrieve his book, however, Sirius was there: bouncing onto his bed, crawling up onto the pillows next to Remus. He even went so far as to shove his bare feet under the covers, right next to Remus' shoulders. Remus ignored the urge to stare at Sirius' pale, elegant ankles. Honestly: _ankles_. Remus was really pathetic.

“ _Mooony!_ ”

Remus sighed and looked up at Sirius, who was gazing impishly down at him. Remus felt his heart flutter at the way Sirius' hair fell just in front of his eyes. “What is it, Sirius?”

Sirius huffed, throwing himself down on the pillows next to Remus. The force of his body weight hitting the pillows cause Remus to bounce up slightly, and his stomach flipped at the motion. He wasn't even sure _why_ his stomach felt all nervous and tight and excited, he just knew that it did. And Sirius was definitely part of the reason it felt that way. “I can't wait until we know what our animagus forms are,” Sirius was saying. “Then we can get wicked nicknames just like yours.”

Remus snorted. “Yeah, real wicked.”

The soft grin that lit up Sirius' face was enough for heat to rise on Remus' cheeks, forcing him to look away. Luckily, Sirius didn't seem to notice his sudden flush. 

“Is there a reason you're in my bed?” Remus asked, when Sirius' smiling gaze proved to be too much for him to endure any longer.

“Oh!” Sirius' face seemed to light up even more. “You know Hogsmeade's is six days after the full. You'll be fine to go by then, yeah?”

Remus frowned, mind racing as he tried to follow Sirius' train of thought. Difficult at the most rational of times, such a task was proving nigh impossible now. “Yeah. Sure. Why?” Remus took a stab at the only thing he could think of guaranteed to be on Sirius' mind at all times. “Do you need help with a prank?”

Sirius slid down further under Remus' covers, bringing his head and shoulders level with Remus' on the pillows, his feet big lumps only a hand's breadth from Remus' own. Remus concentrated very hard on not moving. “No. That's not the _only_ thing I do.” Sirius' voice was almost surly, and Remus glanced over at him in surprise. Sirius seemed... nervous, almost. Though Remus couldn't be quite sure, because Sirius was _never_ nervous. In fact, the last time Remus had seen Sirius looking like this had been just before the impetuous boy had asked him if he was a werewolf.

Remus' skin felt like it was a size too small. “Well I'll be there. Can you get out of my bed, now?”

With an indignant huff Sirius threw the covers off himself and scrambled out of Remus' bed. His bare feet slapped on the wood floor of the dorm as he stormed over to his own bed, all hunched shoulders and clenched fists. “Fine!” he shouted over his shoulder. “Sorry to keep you from whatever important business you have on a Sunday night! Having a wank, or something.” Remus flushed. “Have a wank over Evans, for all I care. Hell: have a wake over _Dorian_ , for all I care!” With that, Sirius jumped into his own bed and snapped the curtains shut.

When Remus dared look around the room, he found Peter and James looking after Sirius with mouths hanging open and eyes wide. “What was _that_ about?” Peter wondered.

Remus just shrugged and reached for his curtains. He didn't much feel like reading after that: the gnawing in his stomach wasn't about to let him. “Dunno,” he muttered before closing his bed curtains. As he lay there in the dark, he could only stare at the ceiling and hope that James and Peter didn't read too much into Sirius' “Dorian” comment. And that Sirius' himself hadn't meant anything by it. 

**

Thursday afternoon found Remus alone with Peter in the dorm room: James being at Quidditch practice and Sirius off Merlin knew where. Remus' stomach had been tied up in knots all week, as James made odder and odder comments to him and Sirius threw tantrums every time someone mentioned the impending Hogsmeade trip. Remus' head hurt from it all. This was even worse than before anyone had known he was a werewolf. Somehow.

“Pete?” Remus turned from the book he wasn't reading and called out to his fellow Marauder, who was perched on his bed doodling, a bag of Every Flavor Beans open next to him.

“Yeah?” Peter glanced over at Remus.

Running his fingerpads over the edges of his book again and again, flipping the pages in a series of increasingly long strokes, Remus finally pressed forward. “I... can I talk to you about something? Something just between us?”

Looking strangely relieved, Peter dug his hand into the Beans and popped a handful into his mouth. “Bloody hell, are you going to finally tell me what's gotten into James and Sirius? They've been bothering you nonstop all week, and I can't sort it. I thought you blokes had some sort of secret you were keeping from me. Again.”

Remus winced. He hadn't been the one to keep his lycanthropy secret from Peter: Sirius had figured it first, and then told James his theory. By the time it got around to Peter, Sirius and James had already confronted Remus about it and made him fess up. Peter was the last one in on the whole thing. “Can I,” Remus started to get up from his bed. Peter nodded, shoving his doodles to one side and sitting up.

Almost reluctantly Remus crossed the room and climbed onto Peter's bed, making sure to sit at the far end, maintaining a safe distance. Of all the Marauders, Remus felt Peter would be the least likely to react badly to his confession. Peter might not even approve in the slightest, but he also wouldn't raise a fuss. That would be more Sirius and James' style.

Wrapping his arms around his legs, Remus stared down at his scarred knees. He'd be damned if he was going to look Peter in the eyes for this conversation. “I dunno about the other two, but I've got a secret. And I don't know who to tell,” Remus started.

He could feel Peter's curiosity and low excitement. Peter was _never_ the first to know something, and now he would be. “What is it?” he breathed. “I mean, if you want to tell me. I'll keep it, I _swear_. Won't tell James or Sirius.”

Remus exhaled long and low, breath causing his fringe of hair hanging over his eyes to flutter and tickle his eyelashes. “You really, _really_ can't tell James or Sirius. And...” Remus hesitated, chancing a glance up at Peter, “you have to promise not to hate me.” _Please_ , he almost added, but cut himself off at the last second. 

Peter's chubby face morphed into an appropriate expression of concern. If there was one thing Peter could be relied on for, it was _appropriate_ reactions to situations. Unlike that wanker Sirius (and yet somehow, Remus' heart still skipped a beat as he thought of all the times Sirius had reacted so brilliantly _in_ appropriately, like when he had hollered “That's brilliant!” in response to Remus confirming his lycanthropy). “'Course, Remus. It can't be much worse than being a werewolf, yeah?”

Remus winced. “Dunno. Maybe?”

Peter continued to look concerned. “What is it?”

Staring resolutely back down at his knees, Remus ran sentences through his mind again and again, until they all sounded completely terrible and poofy. Finally he forced his mouth to say words: any words, he didn't care what. “I think I like blokes. And... Sirius.”

Peter stayed silent for a fraction of a second too long, causing a wave of panic to go through Remus. Quickly he started to rise from Peter's bed, face burning in shame as he kept it downturned. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, tears stinging at his eyes. “I know you don't want me on your bed. Sorry. Please don't tell Sirius.”

“Wait, wait!” Peter's hand shot out, closing around Remus' wrist. At the unexpected contact, Remus' head jerked up in surprise. Peter's expression was confused, yeah, and maybe a little nervous. But not disgusted, or horrified, or angry. It wasn't even nearly as awkward as James' got when he tried to wax poetic about how fit Quinn's arse looked in those little Quidditch shorts. Without realizing it, Remus found himself being tugged back onto Peter's bed.

“Merlin, give a bloke a minute to think,” Peter grumbled. He ran a thick-fingered hand through his short blonde hair, letting a breath out slowly as he stared at some point over Remus' left shoulder. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. So... you're a poof? Or is that, er, not proper?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder. “Dunno. I...” a little hysterical laugh bubbled its way out of Remus' throat as he fought back tears. “I don't even know what the right thing to call it is! Fairy? Gay? Poof?” Remus groaned and held his face in his hands. “I dunno if it's even... is it legal? It wasn't... is it still illegal? It can't be, not with all those rock stars Sirius loves out there. But could... could I get thrown out? I dunno, Pete. I just dunno.” Remus lifted his face from his hands long enough to look imploringly at Peter, who was looking rather sympathetic. “I dunno anything about it, just that I don't like birds, and I really like thinking about blokes, and Sirius the most...”

Peter snorted when Remus trailed off, unable to finish the thought. “Yeah, well, suppose Sirius' opinion on the matter would be he's the best bloke of them all, so it only makes sense you'd be a poofter for him.”

Remus laughed. Sirius _would_ thinking something like that, arrogant sod. And somehow his heart still fluttered at the thought. Remus' heart was really quite moronic. He'd have to see to that sometime soon, before it got him in trouble. 

“So... is this why James and Sirius have been acting off all week? D'you think they know?”

Remus shook his head desperately. “I dunno! Two weeks ago Sirius was talking to me about wanking, and he gave me some advice, and then I realized I liked blokes, and that's why it wasn't working-” Remus cut himself off when Peter's nose scrunched up. “Oh, sorry.”

Peter waved a hand, eyes closed. “No, okay, okay. Right. Keep going.”

“So then after I figured out I liked blokes, Sirius was talking to me, and he gave me this _look_. Like he _knew_. And then a couple days after full James starts talking to me about this bloke's arse on the Quidditch team, and Sirius is mad at me about Hogsmeade for some reason, and...” Remus groaned. “Pete, I don't know what to do.”

A grin flickered across Peter's face at the end of Remus' diatribe. “This has got to be the first time anyone's ever come to me for advice.”

Remus whimpered. “Be serious, Pete.”

“Right, right.” Peter proceeded to put on a very serious thinking mode face. It sort of looked like he was constipated. After a moment or two of very serious thought, Peter nodded to himself. “Well first, I don't think James and Sirius know. How could they? You haven't been all doe-eyed over Sirius, have you?”

“No!” Remus protested! He paused, thinking. He didn't _think_ he had been...

“Well, I haven't noticed it,” Peter mused out loud. “James and Sirius are probably just planning something. You know how they get.” Remus nodded with Peter. Those two _did_ tend to invent entire languages when they were immersed in an idea for something massive: Remus was probably just on the outside of the whole thing and feeling paranoid over getting found out. “If I were you, I'd leave it. I bet they don't know, and the only way they'd find out is if you let yourself go mad over the whole thing and let it slip.”

Remus nodded again. Peter was right. So long as Remus maintained a level head and didn't let Sirius and James' bizarre behavior get to him, he'd probably be just fine. It was highly unlikely they even suspected anything about Remus – after all, it had taken Sirius three quarters of a year to figure out his lycanthropy, and Remus was disappearing over once a month on the night of the full moon. Ravenclaws, his friends were not.

“Thanks, Pete.” When Remus lifted himself off the bed this time it was much more calmly, and Peter let him go. “That's actually great advice. I'll just act normal and wait for them to stop whatever nonsense they've got in their heads.”

With a shaky grin to Peter, Remus started back over to his bed. A word from Peter had him pausing and turning back around. “By the way,” Peter was saying, “it's okay, you know. Being a poofter. And I think James and Sirius'll be fine with it, too. Whenever you want to tell them.”

Remus' smile turned watery as he nodded in acknowledgement of Peter's words and turned back to his bed. As he drew the curtains around him for a quick nap, a feeling of easy warmth settled in his chest, the likes of which he hadn't felt for weeks. Maybe it'd be okay. Maybe James and Sirius didn't know. Maybe when Remus _did_ work up the courage to tell them (that he was gay, not that he fancied Sirius. Merlin, he'd never live that down), they'd both react the same way as Peter. And even if they didn't, at least he had Peter on side.  



	5. Lead a Hippogriff to Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius does his best to woo Remus. His “best” includes some very stupid things.

 

 

Sirius jerked himself hard and fast as the water from the shower head sluiced off him. His eyes were squeezed shut, left hand braced on the tile wall of the shower stall as he tried to bring himself off quickly. Even though he knew the sound of the shower would cover the sound of his hand slapping against his skin and his heavy breaths, Sirius still felt paranoid, like Remus might come in at any second and know exactly what he was doing. Or who he was fantasizing about.

Oh, R _emus_. Sirius' whole body shuddered, hand speeding up its strokes to an almost vicious pace as he thought of the beautiful boy just on the other side of the bathroom walls. It was Remus' fault Sirius was in this position as it was: jerking himself off quickly in the shower, in a desperate attempt to take the edge off so he wouldn't be parading around the dorm room with a hard on as noticeable as shoving a basilisk down his trousers.

But this way... Sirius' eyes squeezed shut, mouth falling open as he felt his orgasm build, stomach going all twitchy and face hot. Just a few more strokes... Sirius slapped his fist against the wall as he came, evidence of his activities washing away almost instantly down the drain. With a sigh of relief Sirius released himself, lathering up quickly as he rushed to make up for lost time. As understanding as all his mates were when it came to wanking, Sirius didn't much think they'd appreciate him getting off in the showers they all shared (even if Sirius  _knew_ at least Peter had done the same).

Once he was passably clean, Sirius shucked on his pajamas and started scrubbing his hair dry with a towel, which he then dropped on the floor on his way out of the bathroom. Once in the bedroom, Sirius' eyes went immediately to Remus' bed. The curtains were still open, and the occupant of the bed himself was perched on top, book held between his crisscrossed legs. Sirius' stomach flipped as his eyes traced a line from Remus' tawny hair hanging over his face, to the way his thin shoulders were hunched over his book. All the air escaped Sirius' lungs.  _Perfect_ .

“Oi! Moony! Still planning on going to Hogsmeade?” Without waiting for permission, Sirius threw himself onto Remus' bed, vaulting the boy into a bounce that sent limbs flying. Remus glowered at Sirius once he straightened up, but he set his book aside. Sirius grinned toothily at the book: take _that_ , book. Remus was paying attention to Sirius instead of it.

“For the hundredth time, yes.” Shifting away from Sirius, Remus fiddled with the fallen hem of his nightshirt. Sirius didn't miss the way he moved back. “I still think you're planning something, if you're so interested in me going.”

Sirius pouted. Why did Remus always have to think the worst of him? Sirius' mind guiltily flashed back to wanking off in the shower while picturing Remus' face flush with arousal not moments earlier. Sirius shifted uneasily on Remus' bed. He had only done  _that_ so he wouldn't scare Remus off with an erection when he was sitting with Remus on his bed! It had all been for the right reasons. And besides: Sirius was almost  _positive_ Remus was bent, too. So it wasn't that bad.

“I just want to hang out with you, Moony.” Sirius tried a different tack than the ones he had yet. “You know, it's never me and you on our own. It's always me'n James, or you and Pete, or even James'n Pete. But never me and you.” Sirius made his eyes go as wide and sad as he could, scooting close into Remus. “ _Please_ , Remus?”

“What about you and Pete, or me and James?” Remus pointed out. Sirius glared. Trust Remus to be all mathematically correct about Sirius' argument.

“ _Remus_ ,” Sirius whined, scooting even closer to Remus. He was so close that he could smell the soap on Remus' skin from the shower he had taken earlier, and see Remus' eyelashes flicker as he stole a glance at Sirius. He grinned, pressing his leg into Remus'. _This_ was why he had that wank earlier: he wouldn't have lasted a minute this close to Remus otherwise. “ _Come on_. _Promise_ you'll trawl around Hogsmeade with me.”

A little ghost of a grin flickered at the corners of Remus' lips, so Sirius tried harder: pressing his nose against Remus' neck and making little whimpering noises against his throat.

Abruptly the playful mood between them changed, and Sirius found Remus' hands on him, shoving him off, pushing him to the edge of the bed. “For Merlin's sake, Sirius!” Sirius blinked he stared at Remus, who was flushing bright red: though from anger or something else, Sirius wasn't sure. “Go bother James for a while, won't you?”

Sirius stumbled off the bed, leaping back as Remus' curtains closed with a soft susurrus of fabric against fabric not an inch from the tip of his nose.

“Subtle, mate.” James' voice reached Sirius from across the room.

Sirius threw two fingers in his direction as he stormed over to his own bed and yanked the curtains shut.

**

Tuesday night Sirius tried to take James' advice: subtlety. Maybe _that_ would be the key to getting Remus on side. So he crawled onto Remus' bed and shoved a scroll of parchment on top of the Potions textbook Remus had been scrutinizing.

“What _is_ it, Sirius? You know we have a Potions' exam tomorrow, right?”

Sirius shrugged one shoulder, wiping the hair from his eyes with – what he hoped was – casual elegance. “Know it already. And so do you: don't pretend you don't. Anyway, I wanted your opinion on this.”

Sirius' heart leapt as Remus sighed and slid his book out of his lap. “Fine. What is it?” Remus picked up the sheet Sirius had thrown at him and eyed it curiously. “Honeydukes, Scrivenshaft's, Madam Puddifoot's,” Remus read. He looked up at Sirius, confusion evident. “Are you trying to list every shop in Hogsmeade? Because you're well short.”

“I was just thinking of places we could go!” Sirius replied. He scooted closer to Remus and poked at the parchment in his lap. He didn't miss the way Remus squirmed and looked distinctly uncomfortable with his proximity and the location of his hand. Only trouble was, Sirius couldn't figure if that was a good sign or bad. “We can go to Honeydukes and get you all sorts of sweets, then I'll hold your bags when we go to Scrivenshaft's and you can pick up that fancy letter-writing set you've been eyeing – don't deny it, I know you've been saving up since last Christmas for it. Then I thought,” here Sirius paused, shifting uncomfortably. This was the most dangerous part of his plan. “Well, since we're already on that end of town, and I don't want to tire you out so soon after full, we could just stop in to Madam Puddifoot's for sandwiches and tea.”

When he flicked nervous eyes up to meet Remus', Sirius realized he had slowly edged closer to Remus in his enthusiasm. Their faces were inches from each other: so close Sirius could feel Remus' breath on his cheek. Sirius shivered. 

“What do you mean by that?” Remus whispered.

For a moment Sirius thought this was it. Remus had come round. Sirius had planned the perfect date for him, and Remus was going to sweep him off his feet with gratitude, snogging Sirius until he couldn't see straight. “Gn?” Some noise escaped Sirius' mouth, but with his entire brain focused solely on Remus' lips, he wasn't sure what it was.

“What do you mean by that?” Remus asked again, but this time Sirius detected something wrong in his tone. Something that probably should have sent warning bells off in his mind. “By stopping at Madam Puddifoot's? Why'd you ask me to go there?”

Sirius licked his lips. “Dunno. Just-”

“Just _what_ , Sirius? Thought it'd be to my tastes?”

Sirius blinked, shocked at the anger trembling in Remus' voice. He forced himself to pull back, looking at Remus properly. His face was bright red, lips pressed into a thin line. “What?” Sirius blinked. Wait. This wasn't going right. Something had derailed-

“Just leave me alone! It's bad enough- Already feel like shite- Without your... _teasing_!” 

In shock, Sirius crawled forward. Such was his distress that he barely even registered that he was positioning himself in Remus' lap. “Wait! Remus, Moony, wait! I dunno what-”

“Get _off_ me!”

With a mighty shove, Remus knocked Sirius feet-over-head backwards on his bed before scrambling up to his pillows, dragging them over himself like some sort of shield. Sirius could only fall over his own limbs getting off Remus' bed, shocked and scared by the reaction he had provoked in the other boy. “Remus, wait! I don't know what I did!”

“And take your _plans_ with you!” Sirius gaped as he watched Remus ball up his piece of parchment and throw it at him. He didn't even move as it hit him in the head. “I'm a _boy_ , Sirius, in case you forgot! I don't need you to treat me like some...” Remus' anger and embarrassment seemed to rise up in his gullet, choking the words from his throat until he stopped speaking. With a violent flick of his wand he shut his curtains around him, and Sirius was left despondently facing the curtains for the second time that week.

“Remus!” Sirius cried out. “But... what'd I _do_?!”

**

“He's not gay, is he, James?”

James was looking horribly uncomfortable as Sirius clutched a pillow to his chest and sniffed into it. They were sitting on James' bed, so Sirius supposed he might not like the fact that Sirius was getting tears and snot all over his pillow. Then again, Sirius thought James was probably more uncomfortable with Sirius crying in front of him than any amount of bodily fluids that were being spread around. It was just the sort of stand-up mate James was.

“I dunno, Sirius. You know how Remus is: master of secrets, and all that. It's impossible to get a read on him.”

Sirius shook his head viciously, clutching the pillow tighter to his chest. “He's _not_ , I know he's not! Otherwise he'd want to go to Hogsmeade with me, and he'd love that brilliant date I thought up for us, and we'd be snogging like dragons in heat by now!”

James' face twisted up into an almost unrecognizable visage of disgust. “E- g- u-”

Sirius ignored the noises trying to escape James' mouth. “But he  _didn't_ ! He doesn't want to go to Hogsmeade with me, and did you see how he threw me out of his bed when I showed him our date plan? He  _hated_ it! I think he knows, James! Oh, no,” fresh tears spilled down Sirius' cheeks as he raised his face to the canopy, “he knows I'm a poofter and he hates me! He's one of those people who think poofs are unnatural and should go to hell and now he knows I'm gay as a maypole and he wants me to go to hell  _James what do I do?!_ ”

Puffing up his chest and straightening his shoulders, James looked every inch the brave Gryffindor student about to do battle with a grindylow. “Well first,” he started, “I think you should take a breath.”

Sirius did as James told him, sucking a huge, deep breath into his lungs. He exhaled. Okay, that felt a little better.

“Second: I don't think Remus is going to hate you even if he isn't bent. I mean, just doesn't seem to fit him, does it? Especially being a werewolf and all.”

Slowly Sirius relaxed his death-grip on the pillow. That made some sort of sense.

“Third: didn't he already say he'd go to Hogsmeade with you? Ages ago?”

“Well, yeah, but every time I mention it he gets all...” Sirius waved his hand in front of his own face, “red.”

“You _did_ ask him out to Madam Puddifoot's,” James pointed out. “Gay or straight, that's just torture.” Before Sirius could continue lamenting the miserable state of his entire life, James continued. “Plus, did you ever think maybe you could lay off climbing onto his lap when you're talking to him? Every time you started talking to him you kind of... got real close.”

Sirius blinked, thinking back. “I guess. But... why'd he...” Sirius frowned, staring down at the pillow in his arms. What would it matter how close he was?

“Think about it this way, Sirius: if he doesn't like you, sitting in his lap is a bit not on; if he _does_ like you, don't you think sitting in his lap would... you know...” face turning bright red, James gestured vaguely at his lap. “Stuff... down there...”

Sirius' eyes widened. Oh.  _Oh_ ! Sirius grinned, thinking back. Remus had backed away from Sirius any time he had gotten too close, and Sirius had thought it was because he didn't like him. But maybe it was because Remus liked him  _too much_ ! After all, Sirius had taken to wanking off just before any time he planned on ambushing Remus to make sure he didn't experience such difficulties, but Remus didn't have such foresight. 

When Sirius looked back at James, it was with a gleam of a brilliant plan shining out of his eyes. “James, you're a bloody genius, you know that?”

James looked distinctly worried. “Sirius, whatever you're-”

“I gotta go!” Throwing his pillow at James, Sirius scrambled off his bed, wiping drying tears from his face as he went. “I've got a plan! Just you wait: it's going to be brilliant!” Sirius' heart swelled as he raced out of their rooms. Remus wouldn't be able to resist him this time.

**

When Remus crawled into his bed that night, Sirius was watching, nerves thrumming with anticipation. This was it. Tonight was the night he was going to figure out if Remus was really reacting the way James said he was. Sirius' stomach flipped at the thought. Sure, he had thought about touching Remus, about Remus touching himself, about how he might look and feel... _down there_. Sirius had wanked himself _raw_ thinking about how perfect Remus' penis might feel in his hand, how lovingly he'd take care of it one day (one day soon, but... maybe not _too_ soon). 

But tonight Sirius would get his first feel of it. Just a quick brush: just enough to tell if Remus was hard or not. But just that quick grope would be enough to tell Sirius if Remus was really interested or not, and put to rest all the confusing signals he was sending.

If it weren't for how fantastically brave he was, Sirius reckoned he would have been sorted into Ravenclaw for how bloody  _brilliant_ he was.

Taking a long breath to steel his jangling nerves, Sirius grabbed his books and parchment. This was it. “Oi! Moony!” Without waiting for permission – or even acknowledgement – Sirius bounded up from his bed and over to Remus', throwing himself on without hardly a look at the other boy. Before Remus could get a word in edgeways, Sirius tossed the book down in front of him. “Give me some help on my History of Magic homework? There's a bit in the book that's got me confused.”

Chancing his first glance at Remus since he set his brilliant plan in action, Sirius was happy to see Remus cautiously peering down at his book.  _Perfect_ . Sirius  _knew_ Remus wouldn't have been able to resist him asking for help on his homework.

“Where are you having trouble?” Remus asked, voice and eyes cautious as he glanced over at Sirius.

Scooting closer – because Remus would have to get all hot and bothered before this could work – Sirius leaned forward to look at his book. “Just the bit we were supposed to read over the weekend. You know,” Sirius pressed his thigh and shoulder firmly against Remus' as he reached out to open his book, “ _Chapter Seven: The Fourth Roman Purge_ ”.

He might have been imagining it, but Sirius could have  _sworn_ he heard Remus' breath speed up at the extra contact between them. But then Remus cleared his throat and said quite calmly: “Okay. Let's have a look.” 

His fingers reached out to turn to the appropriate page, and Sirius seized an opportunity. He reached out with Remus and – as if by accident – entangled his fingers with Remus'. “Sorry,” Sirius breathed, turning his head in close to Remus'. “Forgot what page it was on.”

Remus' face was definitely turning that telltale red again. Even though he had just wanked not three minutes ago, Sirius  _swore_ he could get hard again with very little more encouragement. And if Remus' adorably flushed face was an indication of arousal... Sirius' head suddenly felt very, very light. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get his feet under him if Grindelwald himself strode through the door that moment, wand blazing. 

“Hey Moony?” Sirius whispered. Remus might have even been talking just then, but Sirius paid him no mind. “I-” just as he planned, Sirius dropped his quill into Remus' lap. “Oh, sorry. Let me-” with no further preamble, Sirius snuck his hand between Remus' thighs and tried his best to grope around.

“ _Sirius!_ ” 

There was a sudden blast, and Sirius found himself thrown across the room and onto the floor. He slid back several feet, coming to a hard stop only when the back of his head connected with the side of his bed. “Ow,” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. “What-”

There was a flurry of activity all around him. Remus was staring at him, horrified, over the edge of his bed. James was shouting something from his own bed – something that sounded like “Can't believe –  _tosser_ -”. Peter was squeaking indignantly from his bed. But it was Remus that Sirius was really focused on. Damn it. He couldn't even remember if he had felt anything. There was something hard, maybe? Sirius shook his head to try and clear it. 

Then there was another blur of motion, and Sirius recovered just long enough to realize it was Remus flying out the dorm room door. “Wait! Moony!” Sirius started to stand up, only for his head to throb painfully. “Ow,” he grumbled again.

“Sirius!” James' shouting wasn't helping his growing headache. Sirius groaned and closed one eye as he peered up at James, who was stomping across the room at him. Uh-oh. James was angry. It was really bad if James was angry with him. “Did you _seriously_ just do what I think you did?”

“I needed to check!” Sirius whinged up at James. “It was your idea, anyway!”

“How was-” James cut himself off, glancing back at Peter. He dropped down to one knee next to Sirius and lowered his voice. “How was feeling up your mate _my idea_?” James hissed. “That is _not_ on, Sirius. Bent, straight, anything: you don't go around doing that to people!”

“But it's Remus!” Sirius explained.

“Even worse!” James countered.

Sirius paused. Oh. Maybe it  _was_ bad. After all, a bird was liable to slap a bloke if he made a pass at her tits, subtle or no. And those  _were_ Remus' private bits. Sirius felt shame rise up in his stomach. Maybe his plan wasn't so brilliant after all. “I just... needed to know...” he tried again, even though his explanation sounded tinny and hollow to his own ears.

When James looked at him, Sirius knew he wasn't buying it either.

“I bollocksed it all up, didn't I?”

“Yeah,” James agreed. When Sirius whimpered, James hurriedly placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But it's okay. It's Remus, after all: bent or not, he's mad about you. He'll cool off in a few minutes, then he'll come back. And _you_ better apologize when he does!”

Nodding his head vigorously, Sirius started to pull himself up to his feet. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. As soon as he comes back, I'll say I was sorry. Say it was a stupid, stupid joke, and promise I'll never do it again.”  _Unless he wants me to_ , some dirty back corner of Sirius' mind whispered. 

Climbing to his feet with Sirius, James patted him on the shoulder one last time. “Don't fuck up,” were his comforting words. Sirius didn't feel comforted. He felt so  _stupid_ . And incredibly, sickeningly ashamed. 

Gathering up his books from Remus' bed, Sirius decided it'd probably be wisest to sequester himself on his own bed as he waited for Remus to return. Tugging the covers up to his chest, Sirius readied himself to wait for Remus, eyes on the door.

When Remus hadn't returned by the time the sun started to rise and peek through the Gryffindor tower windows, Sirius realized Remus wasn't planning on coming back. With bile rising in his throat, Sirius stumbled into his bathroom and clung to the sink, tears stinging at eyes that felt permanently swollen. He had really ruined things, this time.   
  
  



	6. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the groping incident, Remus begins to receive letters and presents from Sirius as sorts of apologies. Unsure of what to do in the face of this outpouring of regret, Remus turns to Peter, then James.

Feeling Sirius' eyes pressing heavily on him, Remus deliberately crumpled up the note and tossed it over the side of the bed, pretending not to notice where it landed. He then tugged the sheets over his head and settle in for just five more minutes of sleep. Normally Remus was the first out of bed in the morning, but today he'd let Sirius have that honor. If he got out of bed now, then Sirius would be there, waiting for him. And Remus didn't much feel like listening to any more of his pleading or excuses.

When he heard the bathroom door click shut, Remus peeked out from under his covers and glanced around the room. Sirius' bed was definitely empty. Raising his head further, Remus looked around. With Sirius nowhere to be seen and the shower turning on in the bathroom, Remus felt he could safely assume the other boy was ensconced in the bathroom. Peter and James appeared to be still asleep or just starting to shift around toward wakefulness in their beds.

Holding his breath without even knowing why, Remus leaned over the side of his bed and quickly snatched up the crumpled piece of paper, smoothing it out delicately. It had been resting on his pillow when he had woken up, greeting him as he opened his eyes first thing that morning. When he had seen it was in Sirius' elegant scrawl and felt Sirius' eyes on him, Remus had crumbled it up and thrown it over the side of the bed. He didn't fancy Sirius thinking he had forgive him. Not when Sirius had made him feel so terrible.

But now, under cover of the early dawn light, Remus' eyes darted over the page.

_Dear Remus,_

_I just wanted to tell you I finished the Narnia series you told me to check out from the library. I wanted to talk to you about it. The last chapter of the last book made me cry, but I don't know why. I mean, they were all together again, weren't they? So I should have been happy. But I felt really, really sad. Please talk to me again, Moony. I don't deserve it, I think, but you're always the best at telling me what happened in books, and why they made me feel the way they did._

_James said I'm not allowed to make you feel bad for not talking to me because I'm a right prat and I deserve to feel miserable. So I won't make you feel bad. But I really miss you, Moony. At least tell me why the book was so sad?_

_Biggest wanker in the world,_

_Sirius_

**

The seat crinkled under Remus' rear as he sat down at his usual place on the Great Hall bench. Frowning, Remus stood up and glanced beneath him. He had sat down on a note, it appeared. In the next moment Remus realized the note contained Sirius' handwriting, so he swept it off the seat and under the table. He stared resolutely down at his peas as he tried to ignore the defeated way Sirius was gazing at him from the other end of the table. Remus didn't eat very much during dinner, instead just pushing his food around on his plate. He couldn't muster up the appetite: not when he could feel the paper trapped beneath his foot, each crinkle a loud accusation throughout the meal.

_Dear Remus,_

_I hope you read this. It's just, I saw you weren't eating at breakfast and lunch. Please eat, Remus. I'm the one who shouldn't be eating. I'm the plonker. Please eat? Please read this, and please eat. I couldn't stand it if you got sick on my account._

_The one who deserves to starve,_

_Sirius_

**

Remus yelped when he sat down on his bed that evening, jumping up immediately. Something sharp had stabbed him in the rump. One glance over at the concerned and apologetic look on Sirius' face across the room told Remus who the pointy item was from, at least.

Still unwilling to appear to be softening – even though he decidedly might have been, after only a day of Sirius' mournful eyes following him everywhere, contrition flowing off him in waves – Remus glanced at his bed to find a large, wrapped-up bundle. He set it on the floor, along with the note that had been resting on top and was now wrinkled by Remus' failure to look behind him before he sat. He then crawled into bed and shut the curtains around him tightly, ignoring the wet glisten that he could maybe see in Sirius' eyes.

Two sleepless hours later, Remus thought maybe it'd be safe to peek out of his curtains. He did so, opening the heavy fabric just the tiniest of slivers so he could look out. Sure enough, the rest of the room was asleep. Remus could see Sirius' pale face illuminated in the moonlight. His brow was furrowed, lips pressed tight, even in sleep. Remus' eyelids flickered softly. He had done that to Sirius: put that worried expression on his face. Then again, with how Sirius had been acting, he deserved a bit of mental turmoil.

Reaching over the side of the bed, Remus snatched up the bundle and tugged it behind his curtains. He opened the bundle itself before the letter – with no one watching, it couldn't hurt to be indecorous.

Inside was a _beautiful_ wizarding chess set. It looked to be ivory, and very, very old. As Remus tugged a pawn into his hand and looked at the craftsmanship, the little man saluted jauntily. Remus smiled down at him before carefully tucking him back in with the rest of the set.

With a heavy heart Remus turned to the note, folded up and sealed with _sOb_ , Sirius' family seal. Remus traced the letters pressed into the wax delicately. Sirius hardly ever used his seal unless he _had_ to write to his mother or father: seeing his initials S.O.B. made Sirius roll his eyes and snort every time.

_Dear Remus,_

_This chess set's from my house. Don't worry: it's not evil or anything. I wouldn't do that to you. But it's been used by evil people all its life, and I figured it'd be nice to have it owned by someone who would apologize every time one of the pieces was taken. I bet you think I don't notice that you do that, but I do. ~~You don't think I notice lots of stuff about you, but I do.~~ That sounded like a threat or something. It wasn't, Moony. I just... I know lots of stuff about you, and I promise I like all of it! Everything about you is just piled high with all goodness and niceness. It's so different from me, with my bad Black blood._

_ Anyway, whatever. You're probably not even reading these at this point. I don't think you read the first two, but you might have. You're good at being secret like that. _

_ I just thought you might treat the set nice, that's all. I don't expect anything in return – not even for you to start talking to me again. Just be nice to them, and I'll be happy. _

_ Bad-blooded tosser, _

_ Sirius _

Remus folded the note carefully, placed it into the bag the chess set was in, and slid the whole bundle under the bed. He didn't sleep very much the rest of the night. His heart hurt too much, and his head felt too confused and swirly.

**

The next day Remus practically tripped over a pile of chocolates that were left outside his bed at some time during the night. Glancing around, Remus realized Sirius had made himself scarce that morning. Pete and James were watching him out of the sides of their eyes, but it wasn't them Remus was trying to dishearten. So he tugged the letter out of the pile of chocolates and read it quickly.

_Dear Remus,_

_I don't want you to throw these out, so I'm not going to be here when you wake up. Please take them? The moon's coming on, and you need your strength. If you're not going to eat real food, at least eat these. I know chocolate helps. Please. You can even tell me you threw them out when you actually don't, if it'll make you feel better. Please. I can't let the moon be bad for you and have it be all my fault. Please._

_Worried about your health,_

_Sirius_

Remus tucked the chocolates under the bed with the chess set, and the letter with the growing bundle he was starting to keep under there as well.

**

_Dear Remus,_

_James said you put the chocolates under the bed but didn't eat any. So here's more. I know you hate to waste food, so maybe if I give you loads and loads of chocolate it'll force you to eat at least some of it._

_Just trying to keep you healthy,_

_Sirius_

The pile of chocolates that evening was so massive that bars were cascading down Remus' pillows, onto his bed and the floor with just the slightest jostle. Remus took it all and pushed it under the bed. That night, when everyone else was asleep, he extracted a single bar of caramel-infused chocolate and let it melt on his tongue piece by piece. Sirius' letters were strewn out before Remus on his bed as he contemplated them, heart melting just a bit as chocolate melted in his mouth. 

**

Morning light dawned on a bouquet of dragonsnap flowers at the foot of Remus' bed. As Remus crawled over to the end of his bed and stared at them, he amended his initial assessment: it wasn't a bouquet, it was a _garden_. It was a _flower shop_ worth of dragonsnaps. In fact, Remus was fairly certain he had never even seen a flower shop with this many dragonsnaps all in one place: this was more like the supply of two or three flower shops. 

The note was tucked into one of those little spears stuck into the middle of the flowers. Sirius was again conspicuously absent, so Remus plucked the note out of the bouquet and read it.

_Dear Remus,_

_I hope dragonsnaps are still your favorite flower, otherwise I'm going to look like an idiot (even if they're not, I don't mind looking like an idiot for you, Remus. Not if it gets you to talk to me again). You said they were last year in potions class, remember? Anyway, I hope you like them._

_I'd buy you flowers every day if you'd talk to me again,_

_Sirius_

_PS: I know I did bad, trying to... you know... grab at you. But I'm so, so, so so so so sooooo sorry, Remus! I'd never do something like that again, I swear. Please: gimme the chance to not be a completely terrible person again? Because I could be a good person, Moony: I really could. Even through all my poisoned blood, I know I could be good. I could be good if you wanted me to be. I'm already better because of you. I already stop and think about what I'm doing sometimes, and wonder if you'd yell at me for it. Not all the time, not yet, but sometimes I really do! _

_Anyway. Hope you like the flowers._

_PPS: Just read over this. I'd cross it out and start again and write something less pathetic, but I'm pretty sure you're not reading these, so I'll just leave it. And who knows: maybe me humiliating myself by writing the sappiest thing ever will make you forgive me._

Remus tucked the note into the bundle under his bed, then contemplated the flowers. After a moment's consideration he hopped out of bed and levitated them downstairs to the common room. The place looked lovely with a flower shop's worth of dragonsnaps strewn all around.

**

Two days before full, Remus was getting used to glancing around his bed or over the side before getting up in the morning. Indeed, there was a stack of books on the side of the bed this morning, one of Sirius' familiar cream-colored notes waiting on top. On an instinct that had developed over the past week, Remus glanced over at Sirius' bed. The boy was gone already. 

_Dear Remus,_

_Sorry these took so long to get to you. I ordered them days and days ago, but I couldn't find A Tale of Two Cities to complete the set. And I know that's your favorite Dickens book, so it'd be rubbish of me to give you all these Dickens' without including that one. They're all first editions, in case you can't tell. It's why it took me so long to get them all._

_ I know Dickens isn't your favorite author, but that Bradbury muggle that you like isn't very expensive, even his first editions. I guess it's 'cause they just came out. And your other guy – Homer – even  _ I _ can't get first editions of that stuff. I don't think they even exist anymore. And anything close to it is in a museum. I looked into seeing if my family or relatives or something owned any of the museums, but the one we did didn't have any old Homer scrolls or anything. Besides, you can't really read those, can you? They're too old. Even though Dickens is old, you can still read these.  _

_ So please read them, would you? I know reading helps you get all calm before the full, so I wanted to make sure you had one of your favorite books to read. _

_ Doesn't even like Dickens, but would buy every copy in the world for you, _

_ Sirius _

Remus stared open-mouthed at the books. This was just too much. Sirius couldn't be allowed to keep spending this kind of money and resources on him.

Tucking the note under his pillow, Remus made the decision to talk to Pete about this tonight. Sirius had to be dealt with, somehow.

**

Sirius' curtains were already closed, with the boy ensconced firmly behind them, when Remus crawled into Peter's bed that night. Tugging the curtains shut and casting a silencing spell first, Remus then turned to Peter, a large rucksack held in his arms. 

“I need your help, Pete.”

Peter eyed the rucksack. “You didn't kill Sirius and chop him into little bits, did you? Because I don't fancy having to sort dumping a dead body.”

Remus rolled his eyes as he dug into the rucksack and started extracting things. “ _No_ ,” he grumbled. “But it might yet come to that.”

After removing the bundle of all the letters Sirius had sent him, Remus set those to the side and then slowly pulled out his gifts, one by one. There was mounds and mounds of chocolates (even though he  _had_ nibbled on a few of them), the ivory chess set, and the set of first editions of every one of Dickens' books. There was even a dragonsnap pressed between the pages of  _A Tale of Two Cities_ that Remus had snuck back out of the common room one afternoon. 

Remus spread his hands, gesturing helplessly at the mounds of stuff. “I don't know what it all means. I can't figure out if he knows I'm bent, or if he was just being a stupid Black and is trying to make up for it, or if this is all some giant prank that I'm the butt of.”

Peter was thumbing through the letters, reading them slowly. “I don't think this is a prank,” he said. “Sirius isn't that mean. And these letters...” Peter fell silent as he read another one before setting it aside. He glanced up at Remus. “He seems really,  _really_ sorry, Remus. Like he's really trying to make it up to you.”

Shaking his head, Remus' pressed his face into his hands. “I don't know, Pete. I don't know  _what_ to think.”

Holding one of the letters up, Peter asked a question. “Are your favorite flowers really dragonsnaps?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah.”

Skimming through the next, Peter held that paper up as well. “And your favorite Dickens book is  _A Tale of Two Cities_ ? And Bradbury and Homer are your favorite authors before him?”

Remus nodded again. “Yeah. What? Why?”

Peter shrugged, chest heaving with a sigh. “Dunno. It's all just really nice. It's almost like...” Peter trailed off for a second, frowning. Remus waited until he started speaking again. “Well, it's almost sort of the kind of thing James is always trying to do for Lily: you know, buy her presents and stuff. But Sirius did a load's better job.” Peter gestured at the pile of presents. “Sirius got you all stuff you'd really like. He knows you better than any of us, looks like. He knows you even better than James knows Lily. Because, see, when James tries to get Lily presents, it's always stupid stuff he'd like, not something she would. Like the time he gave Lily a picture of him playing Quidditch.”

Remus snorted. “I thought he was going to faint when she ripped it in half. Like she tore  _him_ in half instead of just the picture.”

A grin flickered across Peter's face before he grew serious once more. “This is boyfriend stuff, Remus.  _Expensive_ boyfriend stuff. The kinds of presents you give to someone you really, really, really like.”

Fear – and maybe some hope? – gripped at Remus' heart. The thought had already occurred to him, certainly. But he had been too scared that his suspicions were more fueled by his own crush than by reality that he had pushed the thought down, ignored it. But Peter saw it too.

“Do you think Sirius likes me? Likes like...” Remus gestured futilely, “ _likes_ like he wants to be my boyfriend?”

Peter shook his head in confusion as he gazed down at the pile of presents and letters that littered the bed. “Dunno, mate. But you know who would know?”

Remus nodded. He knew the only person on the planet – besides Sirius – privy to the inner workings of the half-mad boy's mind: James.

**

The afternoon of the full moon Remus felt like complete and utter shit. The aches and pains of the impending transformation were nothing new, but everything that had been going on for the last month left him feeling even worse than usual. Sirius had been right to criticize him for under-eating, but every time he looked at food Remus found he had no appetite. Food just seemed so _pointless_ when the boy he liked might hate him for being bent, or think he was just good for some experimentation, or – most confusing and scary of all – might actually like him back. 

Remus glanced over from his bed to James', where the bespectacled boy was seemingly engrossed in a Quidditch magazine. The Cannons' new beater was on the cover: he had apparently had some sort of scandal involving a child with a muggle woman while he was already married. Remus flushed and looked pointedly away from the cover. 

Looking around the room one last time for any of the other boys, Remus plucked up the courage and rose from his bed. James was the only one who could help Remus figure out what was going on in Sirius' mind. Remus was just going to have to talk to him if he wanted to put the whole thing to bed once and for all. 

“James?” The name came out more like a squeak, so Remus cleared his throat and tried again as he took a step closer to James' bed. “James? Can I... talk? About...”

James threw the Quidditch magazine aside and sat up. “About Sirius? Thank  _Merlin_ ! You two avoiding each other has been driving me bonkers!”

Remus slid onto James' bed. Staring down at his hands, Remus twisted them anxiously. “He's been avoiding me.”

James shrugged. “Same thing. So? What's he been doing? He hasn't been bothering you again, has he? Not since... that time.”

Remus flushed as he remembered Sirius' ill-advised grope. What in Merlin's name had he been  _thinking_ , the mad boy? “No. Well... he's been... leaving me presents. And notes.”

James nodded. “The flowers. And chocolates. Was there more?”

Shifting off James' bed without a word, Remus went under his own bed and tugged out his bundle of presents and letters. He sat back down on James' bed and handed the bag to him, letting James dump the contents out over the mattress and look through them. He whistled low when he got to the chess set, turning an ivory queen over in his hands. “He gave this to you? This is  _really_ expensive. Practically a Black heirloom.”

Remus watched as James read through the letters, expression turning a curious shade of scarlet as he looked at some of them. Remus flushed, recalling how... lovey-dovey... some of those letters came across. “Do you think I should give them back? The books, and the chess set at least? It all seems like so much-”

“No!” James' head shot up from the letter he was reading, eyes wide. “You can't do that! Sirius'll just be heartbroken!”

Remus blinked. He could feel the moon tugging at his awareness, making his thoughts muddled and difficult to wade through. Heartbroken? “What... what do you mean?” he asked. James looked nervous. Like maybe he had said something he shouldn't have? Remus' heart fluttered at the thought.

“Nothing.” Quickly James scrambled to shove everything back into the bag. “Forget I said anything. It's between you and Sirius.”

Remus' eyes felt hot, like he wanted to cry. It was all just so  _confusing_ . “James, please, if you know something...”

But James shook his head, mouth firmly closed. Remus felt the jumble of hope and fear in his chest grow even larger and more confused. Silently he picked up his bag and rose from James' bed. “Wait, Remus-”

“I've got to go,” Remus mumbled. “Moon and all.”

“Right,” was James' quiet reply. Shoving the bag under his bed, Remus refused to look back at James as he headed out to Madame Pomfrey. He didn't need to worry about Sirius right now. The moon was much more pressing.

**

Madame Pomfrey's hug was firm before she left him in the Shack for the night. Sighing, Remus trudged up the steps to the little bedroom, hearing the door shut behind Madame Pomfrey as she left. He opened the broken door to the bedroom, not even bothering to look around. He knew this shack. He knew this room. Knew it much too well.

Stripping his shirt, Remus sat down on the bed to start removing his shoes and trousers. Something crinkled under his rear, so Remus stood up, shocked. There was a note in Sirius' familiar handwriting. Remus gaped, then felt fear grip him. Sirius had been in here. Was he _still_ here? The transformation was less than ten minutes away.

“Sirius? Sirius!” Running from room to room shouting, Remus checked each for a _stupid_ , _mad_ little boy waiting there for him. As he checked the last room in the Shack Remus felt his panic subside. Nothing. Thank goodness.

Returning to the bedroom, Remus stared down at the note for a moment before picking it up. Why Sirius would leave him a note  _here_ , of all places, was beyond him. 

_Dear Remus,_

_Please be safe. Please be relaxed. You didn't take my advice about eating, so now you're weak for the moon. I know you haven't been sleeping well these past few weeks, and I_ ~~_think_ ~~ _know it's all my fault. Please be safe, Remus. Just calm down, and relax, and know that I would never ever ever ever EVER want you to suffer or hurt more than you already do every month. Please be safe, Remus. Please. For me, or for yourself, or for James and Pete, or even Madame Pomfrey or_ _ someone _ _, just please be safe._

_I'd die if you did, Remus._

_Please get through this okay. I'd never want you hurt._

_Please._

_Your most terrible, sorry mate,_

_Sirius_

Carefully Remus folded the letter up and slipped it into his trouser pocket before placing his clothes safely into a drawer in the wall. Then he curled up on the bed, covering his head with his arms, as he waited for the transformation to come.  


  



	7. At Last My Love Has Come Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the full Sirius decides it's finally time to set things right.

Sirius stared mournfully out the dorm window, mentally counting the minutes Remus had left in his suffering. Not too long now. Twenty minutes, maybe thirty? And then Madame Pomfrey would be there, wrapping Remus up in a blanket and bringing him back to the hospital wing, patching him up until he had to go through the whole process again in less than a month.

Sirius wanted to be sick. Or cry. Or maybe punch something. It was all very confusing.

“Do you think he'll be okay?” He asked James the question for what must have been the hundredth time that night.

“He is every moon, Sirius.” Even though James' voice sounded casual, the way he was twisting his pillow between his hands belied his outward calm.

“But he thinks I'm mad at him, or something. He hasn't been eating so he's weak, and he's all wound up because of me, so he's going to be worse.” Sirius tore at his cuticles. “James, I don't... what if...”

“He's going to be fine.” James shifted closer to Sirius on his bed, patting his arm reassuringly. “I spoke to him last night, you know. I didn't tell him anything!” James hurried to add when Sirius stared up at him, wide-eyed and frightened. “But we talked about the gifts. And the letters.” James leaned forward conspiratorially. “He's been keeping them, you know.”

Sirius' heart felt like it might leap out of his chest. Now hopeful, love-sick, scared, and guilty were all mashed up inside his stomach, turning his guts into some kind of _worse_ Gordian knot. “He has?”

James nodded. “All the letters, yeah. And the chess set and the books. And I think he even ate some of the chocolate.”

Relief went through Sirius. “Good,” he breathed. “Good.” If Remus had eaten some chocolate then the moon might not be  _so_ bad. It still would be, but at least Remus had some of his favorite treat in him. “Did he like them? All the presents?”

Visibly uncomfortable, James rubbed the back of his head. “Er... dunno, mate. Maybe? He kept them. Overall he just seemed kind of confused.”

Now Sirius wanted to shrivel up in a ball and die. “What? How? How could he be confused? I apologized a million times, and told him over and over how much he matters.” He blinked, thinking back. “I didn't even think he was reading the letters. Some of them...”

“Yeah.” James coughed embarrassedly and glanced away, out the window. “I read them. Surprised you didn't come out and say 'I'm totally bent for you, Moony-dear, and I want to have loads of your poofy babies. Or... buy a flat. And decorate it.' You know: poofy stuff.”

Arms wrapped tight around his legs, Sirius groaned. “It  _was_ that bad, wasn't it? Remus is never going to like me back after all this.”

“Listen,” James patted Sirius' shoulder in a manly display of comfort. “Why don't you go to him this morning? Alone. Pete and I'll hang back until this afternoon sometime, once you two have a chance to talk it out.”

Sirius whimpered. “But what would I say?”

“You could try telling him how you really feel,” James suggested. Apparently the look that crossed Sirius' face was horrified enough that James immediately backtracked. “Or just apologizing! Just tell him that you're really sorry, that you weren't thinking, you know it was wrong, and you will never ever ever do something like that again.”

Sirius held his hands out helplessly. “But I already  _said_ all that stuff!” Sirius' heart broke a little. Hogsmeade was next weekend. He'd  _never_ get to go with Remus now. They'd never go on a date together. Sirius would just be alone and pining the rest of his life, because of some stupid thing he had done to ruin any chance he might have had with Remus.

James placed his hand gently on Sirius' shoulder. “Maybe you should say that stuff in person, though. Maybe Remus needs to see and hear it from you himself.”

Something like hope stirred in Sirius' heart. Maybe that  _would_ work. If Remus would just look at him for two seconds, he'd understand how sorry Sirius was. He  _had_ to. “Okay.” Sirius nodded, then glanced out the window. Dawn was close, now: the sky was lightening in the east, the sun looking like it was just about ready to peek out over the horizon. Sirius nodded again, turning back to James. “Okay. I'm going to go, make sure he's okay, and apologize. Gimme until the afternoon with him, yeah?”

James squeezed Sirius' shoulder tightly before releasing him. “Go on, then. Go! Get your... er... man. Or whatever.” James huffed as Sirius hopped up from the bed. “Bloody hell: it's going to be so weird if you two actually end up together. Gotta get used to you two being all lovey-dovey with each other, holding hands,  _kissing_ ...  _yegk_ !” Sirius laughed as he ran out of the room, leaving James shuddering on his bed.

**

The apology didn't go exactly as Sirius had planned. For one, he hadn't expected to watch Madame Pomfrey levitating an unconscious and badly wounded Remus into the hospital wing just as he arrived.

“Remus? _Remus!_ ” Sirius' heart stopped. No. No no no no no! Not Remus, not Remus. Not _now_ , when they were so close to... something. Not when it would be all Sirius' fault, because he stressed Remus out, because he drove him to not eating and making himself sick with worry just a week before the full.

“Sirius Black! Stay in that chair!” 

But Sirius was already up, ignoring Madame Pomfrey as he tried to get to Remus. If he could just hold him, if he could just stroke his hair and tell Remus that he was here, that he was going to protect him, that he would somehow,  _someway_ , make everything better...

Before Sirius could take a step forward to the bed where Madame Pomfrey was now lowering Remus' unconscious body into, snake-like cords flew from Madame Pomfrey's wand and tied Sirius rather efficiently to the chair. Sirius struggled, howling and crying for a moment before Madame Pomfrey cast a silencing spell on him, quieting him. Still Sirius struggled, tears burning at his eyes, but he could do nothing more than watch as Madame Pomfrey set to work healing Remus.

Slowly but surely as she worked, color started to return to Remus' face. His breathing – which Sirius hadn't even noticed was almost nonexistent when he was first levitated in – grew stronger, chest seeming like it was rising and falling more every time. The blood slowly vanished from his skin and his wounds knit themselves up as Madame Pomfrey applied some judicious potions to the rent flesh. 

What felt like hours and hours later, but was barely an hour after dawn if the light coming through the large windows in the hospital wing were anything to go by, the bonds holding Sirius fell away and the silence over his mouth ceased. The first noise to come out of Sirius was a sob as he fell forward, leaning against the bed on his knees as he scrambled for Remus' limp hand. 

He was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, meeting Madame Pomfrey's concerned but stern eyes as she stared down at him. “He needs his rest, Mister Black. I'm sure you know this.” Sirius nodded, throat feeling like it was sealed shut even though the spell had been lifted. “You can sit with him, but please,” she shook her head and tutted lightly, “ _sit_ , won't you? I don't need to waste my bruise ointment on you just because you decided to stay on your knees for two hours waiting for Remus to wake up.”

As Sirius scrambled to his feet, he somehow found his voice again. “It's all my fault. He's hurt more because of me. Because I scared him, because I did something  _stupid_ and so...  _me_ !”

Madame Pomfrey's hand was light as it carded through his hair. “None of this is your fault, Mister Black. He wasn't much worse off than usual. An extra scratch or bruise here. But certainly not the worst I've seen him.”

Sliding his chair closer, Sirius glanced up to check with Madame Pomfrey as he took hold of Remus' hand again. “Is it... is it alright if I...?”

She nodded. “Of course, dear. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?”

Sirius shook his head. “No.” The words almost stuck to his throat, and he had to clear it to force them out. “Thank you.” With a final matronly pat, Madame Pomfrey was off to check on her other patients. She drew the privacy curtain as she left, so that in a moment Sirius was left alone with Remus in their own little bubble. Sirius squeezed Remus' hand tighter.

Gaze sliding off Remus' sleeping visage for a moment, Sirius noticed the clothes on the side table Madame Pomfrey must have brought in with her. They were Remus': neatly folded and unsullied from his nighttime activities. A sliver of cream-colored something caught Sirius' eye, sticking out of Remus' back pocket. Refusing to let go of Remus' hand with his right, Sirius reached for the slip of paper with his left and tugged it out. 

It was his letter. The letter Sirius had written on a whim, driven by terror and fear the day of the full. Tears welled up in Sirius' eyes. Remus had kept it. Not only that: he had put it where it would be safe during his transformation. 

Returning the letter to its place in Remus' trouser pocket, Sirius turned his attention back to his vigil by Remus' bedside.

**

Sirius hadn't thought he'd be able to fall asleep. He was so sick with worry and fear and...  _shame_ ... that he figured there was no way sleep would take him. But somehow it had, and he found himself being startled awake by a soft cough coming from in front of him. His eyes flew open to immediately meet Remus' amber ones, gazing sleepily up at him. 

“Remus?” 

Remus smiled softly. “Sirius.”

And then Sirius started to cry.

He couldn't control it. Tears just spilled out of him, sobs wrenching their way out of his chest. He felt like his heart was breaking, cracking open right there as Remus looked on in bafflement. But he couldn't stop: it hurt  _so_ much. It hurt to think about Remus going through this every month; it hurt to imagine years of suffering behind Remus, and years and years of suffering ahead of him; it hurt to know that this one time, Sirius was partially to blame for the pain that Remus suffered. But most of all, it hurt because Sirius  _knew_ he would hurt Remus like this, or worse, again. It was just in his nature. It was his mad, bad blood. He would always ruin those things he held most close, and Remus was the one person in the world Sirius held closest to his heart. And the one person in the world that didn't deserve Sirius' special ability to royally fuck everything up.

“Sirius! Oh, no, Sirius, please don't. Please... stop... I'm fine. Really. Please... please stop crying. Sirius!”

Shaking his head vigorously, Sirius found he couldn't even look up at Remus. It was so  _stupid_ . It was so embarrassing. But he had hurt Remus, and that hurt  _so damn much_ . He couldn't face it.

“Sirius.” Remus' hand tugged at Sirius', pulling it up. Sirius blinked, forgetting that he was still clutching it in his own. Abruptly he realized the contact might not be wanted, and that Remus was probably trying to pull away. Choking back tears, Sirius recognized that he deserved such treatment and released his grip on Remus' hand, trying to let it drop.

But Remus held on. Sirius watched, dumbfounded, as Remus brought Sirius' hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Remus' eyes were shut, tears trickling out of them as his lips lingered on Sirius' knuckles. When he stopped, it was only to bring Sirius' hand to his cheek and hold it there, nuzzling it.

Sirius' stomach was doing flip-flips inside his belly. “Remus?” he croaked.

“ _Sirius_.” 

The way Remus said his name... Sirius' breath was snatched from his lungs. It was beautiful. It was the only way Sirius wanted to hear his name said ever again. It was like a prayer, or a caress, or a warm September greeting after a summer spent apart. It was like coming home, to a place that really  _was_ home, for good.

Remus' eyes fluttered open, and he gazed up at Sirius through a sheen of tears. “Please don't cry. I'm sorry I scared you.”

Sirius' brain kick-started through the swarm of confusing, impossible emotions flooding his system. “No! No, Moony: I'm the one apologizing. I was the one who scared  _you_ !” Tugging his hand away – even though it felt like putting out the sun – Sirius clutched at Remus' sheets, leaning forward earnestly. “I'm  _so_ sorry, Moony. I did something so terrible, and you should never, ever forgive me.”

A grin cracked across Remus' tired face. “It was pretty awful.”

Sirius' face fell. “I know,” he whispered. “I'm so sorry. I promise never to ever do anything like that ever ever again. I don't think you should, you know, be nice to me or be my friend again anytime soon, but I wanted you to know that. I feel terrible. I feel like my whole world is sad and awful because of what I did. And you ignoring me is what I deserve.”

“Sirius?” Sirius' head whipped up at Remus' gentle, questioning tone. “Could you do something for me?”

“ _Anything_ ,” Sirius breathed.

Remus' eyes were clear now. “Tell me the truth. Why'd you do that? Why'd you do all those things: talking about Hogsmeade and trying to get me to go to Madame Puddifoot's and... all that stuff?”

Sirius gulped. Here it was. The conversation he had been dreading. And he absolutely  _had_ to tell the truth: Remus deserved that much. 

But that didn't mean Sirius had to _look_ at Remus while he said it. Face blazing, Sirius stared down at his fingers as he played with the sheets. He took a long moment to steel his courage. He had to say it, he had to say it. Just say it once, and it'd be over. And Remus could go and hate Sirius properly. _Or return my feelings_. “I like you,” Sirius whispered. “Like-like. I wanted to take you out to Hogsmeade on a... on a date. But I couldn't tell if you liked me back. So I figured I'd... feel. To check. I'm...” Sirius took a breath, letting it out fast and hard. “I'm bent.”

The last word seemed to hang in the air like a solid presence, entirely tangible and visible to anyone who walked past. Sirius waited to the count of ten, though maybe it was only five with how fast he counted, before he started to get up.

But then Remus' hand was on his again. Remus' hand was clutching his tight, refusing to let him get up. And as Sirius watched, awestruck, Remus raised that hand back to his lips again and pressed a kiss to it. “I'm bent, too,” he replied. His eyes flickered down before they returned to Sirius', embarrassed flush staining his cheeks. “And I like you, too.”

Sirius wanted to whoop. He wanted to holler and shout and tell everyone at Hogwarts, but then at the same time he wanted to keep this a secret, something just for Remus and him. Because it was too precious to let anyone in on, and too delicate for Sirius to let go public just yet.

Remus' eyes grew sly. “So... are we boyfriends?”

Sirius giggled. _Giggled_. It was an absurd noise, and he clamped his left hand over his mouth as soon as it escaped. But Remus was grinning right back at him, kind of looking like maybe he wanted to giggle, too. “If you want to be,” Sirius ventured. “I mean, I want to be. I want to take you to Hogsmeade and buy you all sorts of things, and take you to Madame Puddifoot's and-” Sirius cut himself off, thinking about playing footsie and first-date kisses and how he wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Remus all that quite yet. 

“Then I think we're boyfriends,” Remus wondered. 

Impulsively, Sirius brought Remus' hand up to his lips and returned the kiss. Only once he started he couldn't stop. He peppered kiss after kiss to Remus' hand, until the other boy was giggling and squirming in his hospital sheets. “Sirius! Sirius, stop!”

Sirius stopped, after placing one last, firm kiss dead-center on the back of Remus' hand. “That's all okay, right?” he asked, though judging by Remus' grinning face it was. “Because I'm not going to do anything you don't think is okay.”

“It's okay,” Remus nodded, tawny hair flopping above his eyes. “It's definitely okay.”

Glancing around the hospital wing, Sirius scooted his chair even closer to the bed and leaned in conspiratorially. “You know,” he whispered, “James and Pete aren't going to be in until the afternoon.” Remus eyed Sirius expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “Wanna cuddle?”

Biting his lower lip, Remus considered the proposition for a moment. Then he nodded his head, scooting to the opposite side of the bed so Sirius could climb in. Sirius felt a churning in his gut entirely unlike the feelings he'd been having for the past week as he settled himself on top of the bed, pressed close up against Remus' side. It was most definitely a  _good_ churning. “Can I hold your hand?” Sirius whispered, as if afraid to break the spell their little bubble in the hospital wing was under.

Remus nodded. Sirius laced their fingers together, marveling at the way Remus' just slipped perfectly between his own. They settled down on the pillows, face to face and just watching each other. “This is nice,” Remus whispered. Then a grin quirked at his lips. “I like this much better than you trying to grope me.”

Sirius flushed. “Sorry.”

“I know,” Remus replied. A yawn cracked his jaw and he sighed after. “Sorry. I'm probably going to fall asleep again.” 

“That's fine,” Sirius whispered. “I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Better be,” Remus mumbled. “And tell James to bring all that chocolate I stashed under the bed.”

“You kept it?” Sirius confirmed. “All of it?” James had said he had, but Sirius wanted to hear it from Remus.

Remus' eyes fluttered shut as he nodded. “I kept everything,” he mumbled. “'Course.”

As Remus drifted off to sleep, a warm feeling spread through Sirius' chest and settled there, like a heated blanket in the dead of winter. Maybe he wouldn't mess this up. Or, more likely, maybe Remus just wouldn't let him.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius' date with Remus overwhelms his senses to an exquisite degree.

 

_Taste_

 

The rich chocolate melted over Sirius' tongue, flooding his mouth with its milky goodness. Remus was smiling expectantly at him when he let his eyes fall back open and drew his attention from the tastes in his mouth.

“Well?”

Sirius grinned. “Good...” he replied slowly. Remus' face fell. “But what about that caramel one?”

Remus' face immediately brightened again. “Did you like that more?” Remus asked, even as he picked his way through the students to the other side of the store. Sirius followed him with a happy smile on his face, trying to commit to memory every single second of the day.

As Sirius followed Remus, he contemplated the taste of chocolate still melting in his mouth. It was Remus' favorite brand – is this how Remus would taste, then? Like sweet, milky bliss every time they-

“Here,” Remus held a piece of chocolate up between two fingers. Sirius' gaze flicked down to it, mouth watering: though if it was over anticipation of eating the chocolate or the sight of Remus' long fingers clutching it, Sirius couldn't be sure.

Taking a step closer, Sirius stared down Remus, watching his eyes widen slightly at their proximity. “Well?” Sirius murmured. He opened his mouth, glancing down significantly at Remus' fingers.

Remus flushed, looking around the crowded sweetshop nervously. After just a second he seemed to steel himself, coming to a decision. His fingers pressed forward, dropping the chocolate into Sirius' mouth in a flash. Sirius tried to dart his tongue out and lick and Remus' nimble fingers, but Remus was too quick for him. Ruefully Sirius drew his tongue back into his mouth and focused on the taste of chocolate in his mouth. The caramel swirl through the chocolate melted slower than the slightly bitter chocolate itself, leaving a hard stripe in the center of his mouth of pure caramel goodness. Sirius hummed and smiled closed-mouthed at Remus.

“Delicious,” he murmured. Remus flushed and looked away.

 

_Smell_

 

Sirius sneezed once when they entered Scrivenshaft's, earning him a look and a smile from Remus, who was leading the way. “Okay?”

Sirius rubbed his nose on his sleeve. “You'd think I be used to it by now: all that dragging you out of the library.” Remus laughed and breathed deep as he turned back to the shop, eyes darting around at all the different things he might by: the parchment, the quill and inkpot sets, the calligraphy nibs and special wax seals.

As Remus hurried to the back of the shop where his expensive letter writing set was waiting for him, Sirius paused for a second and breathed deep. The entire shop smelled like _Remus_. Remus, after spending hours in the musty old library, skin and hair absorbing the scent of the books and parchments and capturing it, so he'd smell like that for hours after Sirius dragged him out. There was also the sharper smell of ink, which would so often stain Remus' long fingers. The smells reminded Sirius of cool afternoons spent lounging on Remus' bed, sneaking sniffs of his hair and playing teasingly with his fingers, even as Sirius' stomach fluttered and flipped to be able to hold Remus' hand under the guise of simple friendship. 

At the back of the shop Remus was gesturing Sirius over, so he hurried through the – decidedly thinner – crowds of the shop. Remus' eyes were glittering with excitement as he looked at the set. “I'll have enough saved up by Christmas, I think! Especially if I get a bunch of tutoring jobs finals week like I normally do.”

Scooting closer, Sirius stood against Remus' back, so he had to press his chin over Remus' shoulder to look. He took advantage of his position to poke his nose in Remus' hair and breathe deep. Beneath him Remus shivered and glanced back, eyes wide with... something. Sirius' gaze flickered to Remus' mouth for just the briefest second.

But then awareness of the rest of the shop and students came rushing back, and Remus glanced down, stepping away from Sirius and closer to the set. “Wh... what do you think?”

“You could let me buy it now,” Sirius suggested.

Remus smiled over his shoulder at Sirius. “No. I'd rather wait. Makes it that much better, you know?”

“Yeah.” Sirius crowded Remus again, pressing his nose just beneath Remus' ear and breathing deep. This time Remus didn't pull away. “Yeah,” Sirius breathed, eyes closed as he inhaled that lovely, musky, bookish concoction Remus carried around with him, “I know.”

 

_Sight_

 

Remus was wearing a bright orange jumper that seemed to highlight all of the crisp goodness of the autumn weather as they walked down the streets of Hogsmeade. His hair was a tawny color that perfectly imitated the color of half the leaves already fallen to the ground and littering the streets. Even his amber eyes seemed to reflect the color of the whole season, wrapping it up in two enticing orbs that sparkled in the lower midday light of the autumn sun.

“Stop it,” Remus grumbled.

“Huh?” Sirius blinked, eyes still tracing the pattern of sunlight streaking golden through Remus' hair.

A blush had risen on Remus' cheeks that Sirius finally took the time to notice. “You're... looking. Staring. At me.”

Sirius' soft smile that had graced his face as he watched Remus in the autumn light now widened into a full grin. “Can't think of anything better to stare at,” he replied. Remus' flush deepened, so even it seemed to stay in the theme of the autumn colors.

While Remus spluttered for a response, a single orange leaf floated toward them, coming to rest in Remus' hair. When Remus reached up to bat it away, Sirius stopped him with a hand wrapped around his wrist. Aristocratic fingers on his other hand reached out and plucked the leaf from Remus' hair, holding it delicately between thumb and index finger. Remus' lips were parted in breathless anticipation as he watched Sirius twirl the leaf between his fingers.

“You should keep it.” Sirius said, handing the leaf over to Remus. He took it, clutching it in a delicate cage made of his curled digits. “It matches your jumper. And...” Sirius flushed and looked to the ground, before steeling himself and looking back up into Remus' wide, expectant eyes. “And it's from our first... you know... _date_ ,” he finally whispered.

Taking out one of his books Sirius had insisted on buying him from Scrivenshaft's, Remus pressed the leaf between two pages. The pages of the old tome looked almost just the same as the color of Remus' hair. And now the bright orange leaf had brightened both Remus' golden locks and the yellowed pages of the book.

Remus' eyes were glittering with happiness as he looked back up at Sirius.

 

_Sound_

 

Even though Remus' voice was quiet, Sirius could still somehow hear it perfectly over the noise of Madame Puddifoot's: the clink of tea sets and silverware, the harps playing and cupids singing terrible love songs, and the chattering of other students' voices adding to the whole din.

“What if someone sees?” Remus was whispering in Sirius' ear.

“Madame Puddifoot?” Sirius turned up the charm as he leaned on the hostess podium and smiled at the young witch who ran the restaurant. “Table for two. And could it be... in the back?”

The young witch took one look at the two boys and her expression softened into something that made even Sirius shift uncomfortably. “Of course. I have just the spot.”

Leaning into Remus as they followed her back, Sirius whispered: “I don't... Sorry. I'm not ashamed or anything, I just figured-”

“Sirius,” Remus cut Sirius off and looked at him, smiling. “I know. And thanks. I'm not... not yet. It's good like this.”

Once they were in their little secluded table in he back corner, Sirius found he had to lean forward to listen to Remus' quiet voice over the sounds of the restaurant. Not that he minded: leaning forward in his seat meant that Sirius could have an excuse to stretch his legs out, feeling for Remus' and rubbing one with his foot. Remus' voice had stopped talking and morphed into some kind of strangled squeak. Sirius grinned and raised his eyebrows. “What were you saying, Moony?” He kept his foot steadily rubbing against Remus', who hadn't pulled away at all.

“I... uh... Divination!” Remus practically shouted. “Divination class. I'm going to drop it after this year.” Remus went on, talking about his dislike of that class, as Sirius just leaned his chin on one hand and listened. The almost-whisper of Remus' words were worlds more beautiful than any chintzy cupids' harps or music.

Sirius said something – he wasn't even sure what – that managed to draw a quiet laugh out of Remus. Even though the laugh was so understated, Sirius thought it was a more magical sound than anything he had ever heard. Sirius could spend a lifetime trying to coax those quiet peals of laughter out of Remus.

 

_Touch_

 

Walking up the stone path to Hogwarts, the back of Sirius' hand brushed against Remus'. Both boys flinched and pulled away, eyes darting around at the crowd of students around them. Sirius glanced sidelong at Remus, moving a bit closer. He grazed the back of his knuckles against Remus' – deliberately, this time – and Remus didn't pull away. Their eyes met as their hands stayed back-to-back against each other as they walked, contact hidden in the swell of students all around them.

Their arms brushed on occasion, and their shoulders as they swayed with their steps up the stone path. Every time their bodies touched, Sirius felt his entire body shiver, his stomach flip-flopping like he was riding a Hungarian Horntail doing a trick-flying show. Judging by the pinkish hue to Remus' cheeks and collarbone peeking out from his jumper, Remus was just as affected by the contact as Sirius was. The thought made Sirius' stomach flip some more.

Once they were inside, Remus' hand snatched on and clutched Sirius' wrist, tugging him away from the crowd of students heading back up to Gryffindor tower. Sirius glanced at Remus, surprised, but followed him willingly down the halls. Remus' fingers didn't leave their place circled around Sirius' wrist as they hurried down some back corridors. Sirius was certain Remus' fingerprints would be burned into his skin when he let go.

Remus came to a stop in an abandoned corridor on the third floor, far away from any students returning from Hogsmeade. He started to let go of Sirius' wrist, but Sirius grabbed for his hand and intertwined their fingers before Remus could draw back. The skin on Remus' hand was soft, his fingernails blunt as he let his fingers slip between Sirius'.

Sirius' palm was sweaty where he held Remus' hand, and he wanted to let go and wipe it on his thigh, embarrassed at his body's betrayal. But more than that, he wanted to keep holding onto Remus' hand. So he did that.

“What...” Sirius licked his lips, watching as Remus did the same a moment later. Sirius' mind flashed to how those lips might feel, wet and soft against his own. “Why're we here?”

Remus flushed and tightened his grip on Sirius' hand.

 

_Mélange_

 

When they kissed... all of Sirius' senses stopped. Or they overloaded. It was too much, and not enough, and he couldn't think long enough to categorize all the sensations flooding his mind. Remus' lips _were_ soft and wet against his own, pressed tentatively at first, and then firmer as they stepped closer together. He smelled like dry, cool sweat from walking around all day, and that bookish, musty scent his hair always held. 

Remus' eyes fluttered shut as Sirius watched, brows slightly furrowed in something like concentration and nerves and amazement all smushed up into one too-big emotion. After raking his eyes one last time over Remus' beautiful face, all flushed and spattered with freckles, Sirius let his eyes slide closed with Remus'. The sound of Remus' breath coming through his nose was heavy, so heavy that Sirius pulled back for a second, just to check. “Is... can you breathe?” he whispered, face still pressed mere inches from Remus'.

“Yeah,” Remus whispered back. His eyes flickered back down to Sirius' lips. “Yeah. Can...?”

Sirius kissed him again immediately, arms going to wrap around Remus' back and tug him closer. He wanted to hug and kiss Remus' forever. He wanted to hear Remus' breath coming heavy through his nose, feel Remus' wet, soft lips against his, smell Remus' bookish, library scent, see those little freckles on Remus' face grow more distinct as he flushed, taste-

Emboldened by Remus' soft whimper of happiness, Sirius darted his tongue out, tasting Remus' lips. Abruptly Remus pulled back, laughing. “ _Sirius_ !”

Sirius flushed and pulled away, terrified he had just committed an unforgivable faux pas. “I'm sorry! Sorry! I thought-”

But the soft tinkle of Remus' laughter was filling the air of the empty corridor, and Remus' nose was scrunching up in amusement. A goofy smile tugged at Sirius' lips as he just watched, entranced by the sight and sound of Remus laughing. “I... It's okay. Just not yet?”

Sirius nodded vigorously, reaching a hand back out to trace along Remus' arm. “Okay. That's okay.” He paused, eyes following his hand touching the soft skin on the inside of Remus' elbow. “Could we kiss some more? Normal kissing?”

When Remus shyly took hold of Sirius' arm and tugged him forward, Sirius thought everything he could have ever wanted was right here, in this empty corridor on this brisk October day. 


End file.
